deepundergroundpoetry.com
YOPJ - Truth is an Ugly Fridge
Flowing like a wound, part of the refrigerator refuses to stop flowing orange juice. Fucking hell. I hate fridges, juice, maybe even myself.
Double doors and ample room make this beast like a friend of the family. Like a dirty friend who gets climbed on, slammed, neglected, abused, and opened way too much! Now, I was wiping its wall, but shelves being what they are, it refuses to let me finish wiping up.
"If you just respected the rules and not stick that there ...that wouldn't happen." His words reveal that he is just behind me, his sleepy, observing eyes following my fumbling choices as I clean at way past our bedtimes. My husband and I are getting somewhere... I, caught up on dishes, getting at the building mess in the big, cold beast. He's getting close to publishing a program for Alexa. It will help kids face off in gamified math drills.
"I wish I could use this fridge like a bachelorette" I griped.
He disappeared into the bedroom and I had to continue my battle, finishing my mess off so small children did not find and complicate an unfinished job. I soon climbed into bed with him.
The next day talks start again. "You are violating my boundaries without apologies like all the others in my life!" He said, reacting to my unhappiness about being told how to use "my" fridge.
"I know I'm being difficult, but that's too much! I can't live even with myself with an image like that." And that marked the end of my calm. The storm answered to others no more. It's true. I'd rather be dead than be that. But I'm not. Not dead.
Somehow we thawed; though I don't know how. Hugging, we cry as we listen to "S.O.S." by Abba.
Somehow, for better or worse, we continue in love together. Deeper in today than ever.
Damn the dirty truth.
Double doors and ample room make this beast like a friend of the family. Like a dirty friend who gets climbed on, slammed, neglected, abused, and opened way too much! Now, I was wiping its wall, but shelves being what they are, it refuses to let me finish wiping up.
"If you just respected the rules and not stick that there ...that wouldn't happen." His words reveal that he is just behind me, his sleepy, observing eyes following my fumbling choices as I clean at way past our bedtimes. My husband and I are getting somewhere... I, caught up on dishes, getting at the building mess in the big, cold beast. He's getting close to publishing a program for Alexa. It will help kids face off in gamified math drills.
"I wish I could use this fridge like a bachelorette" I griped.
He disappeared into the bedroom and I had to continue my battle, finishing my mess off so small children did not find and complicate an unfinished job. I soon climbed into bed with him.
The next day talks start again. "You are violating my boundaries without apologies like all the others in my life!" He said, reacting to my unhappiness about being told how to use "my" fridge.
"I know I'm being difficult, but that's too much! I can't live even with myself with an image like that." And that marked the end of my calm. The storm answered to others no more. It's true. I'd rather be dead than be that. But I'm not. Not dead.
Somehow we thawed; though I don't know how. Hugging, we cry as we listen to "S.O.S." by Abba.
Somehow, for better or worse, we continue in love together. Deeper in today than ever.
Damn the dirty truth.
Published 11th Dec 2019
| Edited 12th Dec 2019
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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11th Dec 2019 6:06am
Favourite line (its appearance in a write about a fridge caught my eye as well as the make-up described) - *Somehow we thawed: though I don't know how. Hugging, we cry as we listen to "S.O.S." by Abba. "
11th Dec 2019 6:20am
Thank you for pointing that out! I consider it a helpful compliment. I feel like I could continue a habit like this. ❤️
12th Dec 2019 7:19am
I only realized after reading Ahavati's comment the dialogue is with the frustrating fridge not a possessive sounding man of the house (it was the line about 'him' going into the bedroom that misled me). I agree with her there and at same time excuse the outworking of your frustrations that was the subject of my favourite line.
Well.... actually it's a possessive man who has spent way too much in the depths of loss for the past two years.
Like someone who lived through the Great Depression he has a fixation with keeping order in a way that is quite innocent. His daddy-figure was mostly Boot Camp. And lately his house looks like we've used it.... not-gently. Ten gifted monkeys are anything but gentle. And they were never crushed or drilled into quiet-culture.
But our teen son gaslit our nerves to hell about food. Now I can't stand even gentle, occasional critique. He has to share with me. I have to play nice.
Like someone who lived through the Great Depression he has a fixation with keeping order in a way that is quite innocent. His daddy-figure was mostly Boot Camp. And lately his house looks like we've used it.... not-gently. Ten gifted monkeys are anything but gentle. And they were never crushed or drilled into quiet-culture.
But our teen son gaslit our nerves to hell about food. Now I can't stand even gentle, occasional critique. He has to share with me. I have to play nice.
11th Dec 2019 1:38pm
I think more housewives and mothers should have personal relations with their appliances! LOL! Who is next, I wonder?!
This was entertaining, Jess.
This was entertaining, Jess.
12th Dec 2019 7:45am
12th Dec 2019 7:54am
The ugly truth this time is that my memoir entry was about two humans in love. ✌️😁
