Monday, October 16, 2006

The Costco Curse

It happens every time we go to Costco.

Hubba-hubba is a sucker for the Kirkland brand (I know, we are so hoity-toity, aren't we?) bottled water they carry at Costco. Mostly because it is cheap. Now you don't have to tell me that paying for bottled water in the first place is a fairly un-cheap way to operate, but that will not sway him. And I have to say, the tap water from our city sucks. I have tasted other tap water and had no problem, but this stuff is just nasty. Smells weird, ya know? But, digression abounds.

Our kitchen is a recently remodeled one with custom cabinets and the like. It is among the main reasons we bought this place. Our refrigerator is stainless steel. I make an effort to keep our kitchen looking nice because it is a pretty room with big windows and soothing blue paint.

Then, I look up and see it.

The crap that Hubba-hubba puts on top of the refrigerator.

It drives me nuts.

I mean in no way to offend anyone who does indeed store items on the top of their refrigerator, but I personally can't stand the way it looks. It's like, an OCD thing, I assure you.

When Mr. P was a tiny toddler and quickly figured out the supposed child-proof latches on the cabinets, I caved and allowed certain things to be stored there just so I wouldn't have to worry about him dumping an entire bag of Cheerios all over the floor. Which he so would have if given the opportunity. So I suffered for a couple of years.

But then, after the long purgatory of a messy fridge summit, I was in de-cluttered heaven! You could look in my kitchen and not be thoroughly distracted by the boxes of Frosted Mini-Wheats, a ginormous ugly brown bag of chocolate protein drink, and a large carton of Goldfish, among other things. Items on continual display for all who entered to see and instantly critique my eating habits without anyone having to even go through the effort of opening my pantry. And, you could actually see the cabinets above that had been obscured for so long that I swear I had forgotten they were there.

Yesterday, Hubba-hubba hoisted up a half-slab of bottled water. I will call it a slab because it isn't necessarily a crate, and definitely not a box, even though it is made out of cardboard. Slab has a nice ring to it, so I will go ahead and anoint it a slab. If you ever wonder what to name something, I'm your gal. With gems like "slab" I should be getting paid for this stuff.

Anyhoo, the slab has a bazillion bottles of water in it, so many that our regular-sized fridge has no hope of holding them all in one shot. So Hubba-hubba puts the remainder half-bazillion bottles on top, and I get annoyed.

I know it is my fault. Some kind of preoccupation about the top of my refrigerator when I should be more concerned with stopping global warming or perhaps even world peace. Important things that should take up my "worry" brain cells, not the minutae of my kitchen appliances.

Does it make me a hypocrite, though, that an unmade bed doesn't faze me in the least?

Never mind, don't answer that.

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