Dont slam the refrigirato door!
that was ( and still is) one of my mom's ten million comandments. it makes sense to me now, but when i was a kid, i thought it was a magic doorway to another world.
someone once asked me if i had ever run away from home.i said, "No, i could never leave the refrigirator behind."
but much as i loved that machine, i treated it the way an eight-year-old would treat any household furniture. while sacred to the housekeeper, it was a plaything for me.
apart from keeping food in it, the refrigirator became an indispensable tool in some of my activities. for example, our 2-door model was a fair game for my sister and me. it didn't onle get slammed, it also served as a post for chinese garter (oh yeah believe it! i play chinese garter before), a soccer goal, susbstitute canvas, a dancing partner, dart board, ladder ( to reach my mom's secret supply of cookies on top of it) and god knows what else.
but we weren't the only ones in our family to have such bizarre uses of the fridge. one uncle hid important documents, like his passport, in the fridge for fear the thieves would barge right in and rob him of his precious papers. another uncle caused a disturbance after several people mistook his daily supplement of raw eggs for juice. spell Y-U-C-K.
i have found strange things in the fridge myself. a pantyhose,lipstick, retainers, jewelry and dying plants have somehow managed to find their way inside the fridge at one time or another.
strange as it may seem, i must confess that as a child i used it as a hiding place, knowing no one in his right mind would look for me there when we play hide and seek. i would rearrange myself into a human pretzel and squeeze myself inside with the box of Zest-O and Yakult containers on my lap and shut the door. Now, that wasn't a bad idea because unlike a closet, you didn't sweat in there. sad to say, i was soon discovered by my horrified mother as i sang while sitting in her funnel cake.
of course, the punishment i received didn't stop me from doing it again. you see, in the tropical where i live, the refrigerator serves as a makeshift air-conditioner during scorching summer days. while i stole chocolates from there, i drew on the soft layers of squishy ice forming on the back panle, believing i was the first person to do that.
this became an issue for my mother, of course, she got tired of seeing flowers and sticks in her fridge. she wasn't too happy about the missing bags of M&Ms either. so she defrosted vey often, thinking it would stop me.
when i was in high school, i found other uses for the refrigerator that further alarmed my mom and exasperated the rest of the household. let's just say i conducted experiments in there, which were mostly failures. i'm too ashamed to give the details, but i'll say this : the smell of formalin on bread and lasagna was not appetizing, not at all.
even if i matured a little, i still consider the refrigerator one of the best place to spark creativity. i've been known to visit the fridge five to ten times a night, especially when insomia strikes and i don't have any inspiration to write. i ended up devouring the leftovers from christmas dinner while doing some "research for this essay. ( as if i have to research, its just another reasoning for me to eat).
and i must say that while i was crouched in front of the refrigerator, i had to stop myself from crawling back in there to relieve my childhood all over again. but i remembered that i was eighteen years old and there's no way i could ever explain it if somebody saw me doing something stupid like that. i've moved on to doing other implish things. still i made sure my mom didn't hear me slam the refrigerator in a moment of gleeful childishness.