Ode to a Fridge

Duke of Earle over at Romantic Ramblings wrote this. It was so freakin' cute I had to post it here, too:

I opened up my fridge to look,
my camera in my hand.
In Karyn’s tag, a picture
and a poem she did demand!

This poem will be the easy part;
I write them all the time.
(Tho’ some would scoff and claim
the words I use don’t really rhyme.)

But hey! We’re talking food and stuff,
like meat and cheese and apple.
I mean, how hard can rhyming be,
with products like this Snapple?

I checked the jars of pickles,
and the milk, and Dr. Pepper.
But then I saw tortillas,
old and shrivelled like a leper.

My God! How long has some of
all this stuff been hiding here?
And what was that? Did I just see
some movement in the rear?

I need to move some things around
and see what’s lurking there.
Is that a piece of fruit? It’s green—
and growing purple hair!

Let’s leave that shelf and check this drawer—
why won’t the damn thing open?
I’ll just pull harder. UGH! Oh darn.
I think it just got broken.

A little super glue will have it
fixed in no time flat.
Looks like a piece is missing.
Hmmm. I wonder where it’s at.

It might have fallen down behind.
I’ll reach and hope for luck.
My fingers won’t quite fit in there.
Oh, no! My hand is stuck!

I’ve got to free myself before
my fingers get frost-bitten.
This thing is awfully cold down here.
I wish I’d worn a mitten.

It’s like a louver, must be where
the air moves past the fan.
I’ll use this fork to pry
the damn thing open if I can.

Oh, hell, I dropped the fork inside.
The fan is clanking wildly!
Carol will be really miffed
(and that’s putting it mildly!)

I’ll reach around behind and pull
the cord to stop the motor.
Ah, there! I got it. OH MY GOD!
Why is it spewing water!?

I must have pulled the plastic hose
that feeds the ice cube maker!
I can’t stand up. My hand is stuck.
I’m kneeling in a lake here!

The water’s rising, I can’t move!
I think I might just drown!
But what was that? Out in the driveway?
Did I hear a sound?

It must be Carol coming home.
She’ll save me without fail!
What’s taking her so long? Did she
walk out to check the mail!?

She’s finally here, and turned
the water off before disaster.
(I told here there’d be less to clean
if she had come in faster.)

So now the fridge is broken,
water through the house has flooded.
My fingers, though not broken, all are
bruised and cut and blooded.

My camera has been ruined
by the water on the floor.
So there will be no pictures
for you bloggers to adore.

The steam’s now rolling from my
dear wife’s ears, just like a fog.
She’s learned I made this mess
because of something on my blog!