The freezer is the place where you store food for two years before you throw it away.
No, not quite the end.
After you chunk six cubic feet of unrecognizable two-year-old frozen gray matter into the trash, you haul it out to the curb for your most favorite of civil servants, the trash collectors — the saintly men who take away the diapers. And then the next morning, when you go out to get the newspaper, you find a ham bone on your driveway, the same ham bone that two years ago, you were going to use to make some gourmet soup. The soup you were going to serve in your delusional Martha Stewart world where you make quaint Christmas ornaments out of tin cans and paperclips and edible entrees out of chunks of frosty gray stuff. And then you scurry around in your robe in 29-degree weather picking 2004’s leftover Thanksgiving dinner off your neighbor’s lawn before the sun comes up.
Sorry Clarence Birdseye. It’s true. The only things I’ve ever used out of my freezer are: popsicles, Cool Whip and…. let me think – oh, ice cubes! And Margarita mix. That’s it. The four basic food groups.
I hear of these large families who buy food on sale and they grow vegetables and they freeze it all. In a freezer! And then from the bounty of their freezer, they are able to feed their families of 29 for $1.37 a year! And I don’t know how they do it. Because for me, once something goes into the freezer, that’s the end of it – outta sight and outta mind! For two years!
Well, out of sight until I’m picking it out of my bushes at 5:30 in the morning.