Idiot Buzzer

It had been one of those days. My baby was finally in bed and I was finally relaxing. My husband and I were vegged out in front of the TV when we heard a loud bang. Turning to each other, we gave the look that says, “What was that? I don’t know, but I am too lazy to go find out. How about you?” My curiosity won out and I got up and began looking for something that could have caused the noise. I thought the sound came from the kitchen, so I looked there first. The kitchen was clean and the dining room was calm. Puzzled, I stood in the middle of the kitchen. The only thing out of place was an open cabinet door beside the fridge. I went to close it and saw a thick red liquid running in droplets from the top of the cabinet door, down to a puddle on the counter. I’ve apparently seen too many horror films because I looked up first, expecting to see a bloody corps pinned to the ceiling or something. Realizing that was a ridiculous thought (especially since I didn’t hear any scary music), I was more puzzled that ever… until I heard it. It is the friendly reminder buzzer on our freezer that calls out “You’re an idiot. You forgot to close the freezer.” Because it sounds so patronizing, we call this the Idiot Buzzer. Hearing the Idiot Buzzer, my thoughts came quickly and the puzzle solved as my mind raced back through the day’s events. I remembered. I was cleaning out the cooler and went to return an ice pack to the freezer. I had a can of Cherry Pepsi in my other hand. I bet I put the can of pop in the freezer instead of the fridge. It froze and exploded, the percussion opening the freezer door. My realization didn’t prepare me for the extent of the damage as I opened the door wide. Crystallized pop covered every inch of the freezer and its content.

Beep, Beep, Beep. The freezer announced its un-closed state once again as my husband came into the room. His comment was, “Looks like someone put a can of pop in the freezer.” He kindly left the word “idiot” out of his description of “someone.” The freezer had done enough name calling.

I finished off my day by cleaning off every package of vegetables, the can of juice, a bag of chicken, 4 opened packages of steaks I forgot I had, a frozen pizza, a carton of ice cream, a baggie of cooked peppers and onions left by my mother sometime in the Winter of ’03, polish hotdogs, a package of freezer burned burritos, and a bunch of other stuff that got caught in the explosion. As I worked, the freezer continued to remind me with a beep, beep, beep that putting pop in the freezer wasn’t the wisest choice. Now, if only the freezer would have told me AS I was putting the can of pop inside it… “Hey idiot, don’t put that in here. Don’t make me beep at you.” Now that would be helpful.