I'm so excited.
My old refrigerator must sense its impending trip to the landfill, because today, it struck back.
As I was preparing our morning meal, and Mr. Lovinangels lunch, I lifted the door, balanced myself on one hand, and pulled it up and open. It's my very own personal door opening ritual- the refrigerator door sits slightly at an angle, with screws of four or five different sizes holding the slab of metal in a precarious position.
The hinge let go as I gently let go of the freezer and reached for the milk. Without warning, the piece of the hinge that was unaided by extra screws let go with a snap, the refrigerator door hit me in the face, and I managed my first back bend since 1999 in a valiant attempt to keep the door (and my olives) from hitting the floor and exploding everywhere.
This thing needs to last till Tuesday.
As I called for help, stretching my back in a way I didn't think possible, everyone BUT the person I needed arrived. First the eleven year old, who stood frozen in horror for what seemed like a year, until I snapped, "go get your dad."
And of course he wanted an explanation as to why his morning regime was being disturbed. Long before help of any kind arrived, I managed to lift both myself and the refrigerator door, while blocking two inquisitive toddlers with one flailing leg.
I even managed to reassemble the hinge with one hand, while holding the door in place with other and kicking like a Rockette with one leg, to the amusement of my small children.
In not the nick of time, my husband arrived, wrapped in a towel and shivering, to save the day.
My next blog post should be, how to cook dinner without opening a vengeful refrigerator.