Yesterday, my brother and sister-in-law “officially” (as in had the movers come) moved into their new house. My mom and I were defrosting their freezer yesterday and had to quit for the night and resume this morning. We got there early, set up the heater and the fans, and waited. I was in the bathroom when I heard a crash in the basement. I quickly dressed myself and ran down to see what had happened. The six-inch thick sheet of ice that had been frozen to the condenser had released and fallen onto the shelf below. I tried to fit the huge block of ice into the five-gallon bucket sitting there, but it wouldn’t fit. So, carrying this monster sheet of slippery ice on my forearm up the steps, trying to open doors and get it outside, I finally managed to get it out the garage door and hefted it into the rock bed outside. I returned to the basement to make sure the rest of the pieces of ice were put in the cookie pans we had set on the freezer shelves to melt and then headed back to perform my original task — going to the bathroom, which was now a huge priority! My mom met me at the door when it was all over and asked, “Is everything okay?” Yes, Mom. Crisis averted. Thank you for asking, hahaha!
Content Rating PG, for the most part
I try to keep the content of my posts in the PG range (meaning that maybe your 13-year-old should not read it... Just kidding!) - you know, something I could get away with tastefully in the town square without getting lynched, tarred-and-feathered, or hung (and something my mother would NOT wash my mouth out with soap for). As far as what age you have to be to understand some of the subtleties of my humor in writing and/or speaking, well... That may vary. A lot.
