Monday, March 05, 2012

It doesn't go to 11.

All day, I've been noticing my freezer isn't keeping things frozen.
I'm thinking, maybe DD left it open. She's done this in the past.
Maybe it's because it's not as full as it used to be and I read somewhere a packed freezer keeps things frozen better.
I figure, any moment, I'm going hear the whirring of the motors to start up the freezer.
I forget about it thinking I'm worrying too much.
Then DD asks for ice cream.
Since it's a special day in our house, I say sure.
I pull out our homemade ice cream we made together at the beginning of the week and it's soft serve.
I have breastmilk in the freezer. I can't have it defrost.
I begin to panic.
DH starts taking measurements to bring to the store.
I start kicking myself in the butt. 
Why didn't I check it after lunch?
What am I going to do about the breastmilk? Would it be weird if I ask my neighbor to hold my stash for me overnight until my new freezer gets to the optimal temperature?
What about our special dinner we were supposed to have tonight?
I'm feeling a little sullen.
I decide to do the obligatory turn the knobs one last time in the freezer just in case.
I slowly put all the stuff back and decide to keep the freezer door closed until the new freezer arrives.
DD asks for water. 
I open the fridge and touch the water.  It's cool but not cold.
How did I not notice that? 
Did I think it was because I just refilled the water pitcher?
Then I look up and see a knob.
It is a dial and it has numbers 1 through 8.
It's pointing to <1.
Or is it pointing to >8?
I turn the darn thing and the recognizable humming of the generator starts.
Holy crap.
The knob that time forgot but a 3 year old saw and decided, hey, wouldn't it be cool to turn it this way.
Bloody hell.
Is this the beginnings of the plot to prove Mom is off her rocker?