Butch Bitch

I'm not really bitching in the post, I'm crowing! But I thought I would be bitching and thought of this title and now love it too much to give it up.

Saturday our new Fridge came. You know you're old when you're excited about a new fridge. I just can't stop looking at it. And opening it. And looking at it again. And opening it again...

See, we had a vintage 1950's Hotpoint fridge. It came with our vintage 1950's kitchen. cute as a bug. We were really excited about it... "Look how cute our fridge is..." then we moved in and tried to fit everything that had been in our normal-sized fridge into our bug and realized that vintage 1950's refrigerators were meant for vintage 1950's housewives. Someone who has time to grocery shop every day. Someone who buys milk in quarts. AND we couldn't just replace the fridge because there was a cabinet that hung over it and so any fridge that we bought would have to be the exact same height and they just don't make full-sized modern refrigerators that short.

So we lived in crampy-fridge-ville for 2 years. We began to worry about the quality of any breast milk we attempted to store in the fridge (it freezes what should not be frozen but ice-cream and ice-cubes liquify in its ice-box). We were trying to figure out how to re-do the entire kitchen (something we still plan to do in near future) before the baby comes so that we could buy a new fridge. There was just no way we could do it. Despair ensued.

And then I noticed that the cabinet over the fridge was not really a real cabinet. It was just shelves that were disguised to LOOK like a cabinet. I determined that whacking off the bottom 10 inches would not compromise the stability of the structure. So we bought a fridge. And Saturday morning I got up. Butched out. Took out the jig saw (which I have used approximately once, to disastrous effect) and cut a space for the fridge before the delivery guy came.

I thought this post would be full of bitching because I was certain that once Kristin woke up and saw the way I cut the cabinet she would be full of criticism and complaint. But all that woman did was laugh and say, "This isn't permanent, right?" And really, what more could you ask? I did cut it pretty crooked.

PS -- This is only the second time I've tried to put pictures on the blog, and the first time didn't work so well, so let's hope this looks good.

Posted by Trista @ 1:28 PM

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