This guy lives in my ice bin. He’s pretty happy there. You have to watch out for him though, because
just when you think you’ve grabbed a nice handful of ice for your cold
beverage, you realize
He has hijacked his way into your drink.
This is also in my freezer. I’m not sure what it is or if I’ll ever eat it.
Actually, it is an old bottle filled with mulch and other detritus from the playground 11 years ago. My two boys filled it up one afternoon, and stuck it in the freezer, calling it a science experiment. Science experiments in this house are just code for “giant mess” and we’ve had plenty of them. The boys’ plan was to leave the bottle in there all winter, and then, in the summer, time how long it would take to defrost it. I encouraged this stunningly intellectual pursuit and kept the bottle frozen all winter.
Eleven years later, we still haven’t thawed it out. Whenever I suggest thawing it to my older
son, who is now 15, he gets sentimental.
“No, Mom. It’s from our
childhood. We can never defrost it.”
Never?
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