The thing with cleaning is that it never ends, so sometimes it is almost worth not beginning.
I try and be good, but with two dogs, a husband and a full-time job, it is hard being as house proud on the outside as I feel I am on the inside. One area I am pretty good in though, is the kitchen. I think it is because I prefer wet cleaning to dry cleaning, by which I mean I am happier with a mop than with a broom, and will take a dishcloth over a duster any day of the week.
It has been a while, though, since I went through my fridge and cleaned it out. Today was not a day I had planned to do it either, but as is always the case, I started doing one thing and it led to another.
I bought a new fridge a while ago after killing a very old one that had decades of faithful service to the family. I had been defrosting the freezer cabinet in exactly the way they tell you not to, with a paint scraper and I stabbed it, which is apparently why they tell you not to do it this way. Gas hissed out of the puncture wound for what seemed like half a hour while I frantically googled it to see if it was toxic or flammable.
I went through the new fridge today which has been pretty full recently, even though the weather has been cool. I have been wiping it clean regularly but something possessed me to start pulling out drawers. I am not sure when drawers in fridges started to get weird. They used to be little boxes that lived under the bottom shelf, but then someone decided to put runners in as well. So my first job was to try and wrestle the drawer out while trying to hold the door open that bounced back and forth against my head as I did.
The drawer is much, much bigger than my kitchen sink, so I thought I would be clever and pour warm water from the kettle into the drawer and wash it that way – except that was not clever at all because now fridge drawers have holes in them for ventilation, so as well as being a stupid size and shape they also leak like a sieve.
While I had the first drawer out, I thought I may as well get the second one clean too and it was as I was trying to get the bottom one dislodged, than I noticed a streak of something on the back wall that had obviously leaked from an upper shelf.
So I got a bucket of warm soapy water and a towel so I could kneel on the floor and I started scubbing the back wall. The door was still swinging back into my head as I did not, but at least my knee was OK.
Then the beeping started. The door had been open for more time than the fridge liked, so despite the fact that there was no discernible difference between the temperature inside and out, my fridge started calling out like the Koel bird of Thailand, which is the one bird you do not want to land on your balcony if you have a hangover.
Eventually I managed to push through the beeping and the bumping and mop up the large pool of water on the floor. I relined the fridge drawers and spent an undignified number of minutes trying to get them back on the runners properly, which took ages, again.
It was ten in the morning. My head was bruised, my jeans were soaking and my knee hurt. I felt about a hundred years old.. But at least my fridge was clean again.