Past Its Expiration Date

I’m house-sitting…

I look in the fridge and all I can see is a warehouse of recycled, relabeled containers with contents of edibles that have since mutated and morphed into the next cure for some debilitating, flesh eating disease, perhaps even cancer. Maybe I should really be reaching out to NIH instead of getting out my mental eight ball in deciding whether it’s safe to shove it down my gullet. It’s a roulette that can only be outed by an ultra keen sense of smell in that split second moment where you are caught in that blissful scavenge at midnight  wanting a quick fix, a snack. You weigh out the risks, you ask yourself, “is this on the edge; can it be salvaged if I heat it; am I that hungry to throw caution to the wind and dive into salmonella?” After pulling out the bloated soy milk box and unsurprisingly finding it curdled, I decide that nothing in their fridge is worth turning my digestive system into a laboratory for a bacterial cesspool party. I’m also pretty sure that in the 1 1/2 years that I have been watching their place that those relics have not been assessed for their combustible capability in well over 5 years. It might as well be a Superfund site.

I close the fridge door in dismay and look to the freezer to redeem me in my moment of need. All I can think of when I peruse the selection of frosted Tupperware and Ziploc bags of tamales and indistinguishable meat items is that I will have to go the extra mile in heating up this food which might be pegged for a special occasion or will not be as good as I hope. A heavy sigh and a audible groan is all I can manage realizing that I might have to settle for a spoonful of almond butter and some dried out carrots.

I’ll show you, I’ll make something with an obscene amount of dairy and fruit and leave it to ferment in your oven that you never use…back to bed it is…


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