We got a new fridge. Yay!
Ain't she purdy?
Of course, it's never coming out of our house. Ever.
Apparently, when buying a fridge, it's really important to measure all the doorways between the delivery van and your kitchen. Otherwise, you will end up with very irritated delivery men and a brand new fridge in your living room because that's right where they left it when they stormed out of your house.
It became a battle of wills after they told me the new fridge wouldn't fit through the kitchen door.
I stood in silence, staring at them. They stood in silence, staring at me. Neither of us wanted to be the ones to cave.
Of course, they realized that it was their job to install my new fridge, so they pretty much had to cave.
Yep. I was victorious.
I was getting my damn fridge. Those jerks didn't know who they were up against.
All of my perishables were strewn about the kitchen counter, slowly perishing, while my old fridge was already in their truck. There was no way I was not getting that damn fridge installed.
If they had to cut a hole in my wall, that fridge was going in that kitchen.
While I was mentally searching the shed for a sledgehammer or chainsaw that would cut through the drywall with ease, they figured out a better way.
Just when I was getting used to the idea of an open floor plan.
They decided to lift the fridge (that's right - lift the fridge) up over my counter top, through the little breakfast bar opening between my kitchen and dining room.
Lift the fridge.
What could possibly go wrong?
Broken counters. Smashed lights. Flattened delivery men.
I decided to remain silent while they lifted the fridge. Not only was I envisioning all of the potential damage to my house, I was also envisioning all the potential comedy.
Physical comedy kills me. Just ask MB. Whenever he falls or I accidentally drop a table on his foot, or elbow him in the face, I just lose it. I'm crying on the floor while he writhes in pain and scowls at me.
You can just imagine the potential laughs of two puny delivery men trying to lift a humongous fridge up on their backs, through a breakfast bar and into a kitchen.
If they had seen my holding back giggles, they probably would've just left the fridge on the breakfast bar and left.
I would have.
Thankfully, they weren't jerks like me. They were professionals who sucked it up and got the job done.
There were no broken bones. No broken walls. No broken fridges.
My delivery men were like super heroes. Super fridge lifting heroes. Heroes who probably regretted scheduling me for the first delivery of the day.
I just hope that all of their other customers remembered to measure.