A new refrigerator leads to something else

There’s something about a new refrigerator that isn’t about the new refrigerator.

It’s about the old one.

Mary and I spent the better part of the weekend searching for a new fridge. We went to various stores, we compared on line, we dickered with the sales person.

Our old refrigerator wasn’t dead, but its useful life in a modern kitchen was coming to a close.  The ice maker wasn’t operating well.  The doors were a little crooked.  1992 called and wanted its fridge back.  It was time.

Shopping for a refrigerator is not the best way to spend a weekend, but it takes that long.

First you must find the ones that fit the opening in the kitchen.  I had measured down to about ½ inch.  In the end it came down to an eighth on either side.  Meaning a trip home to measure much more carefully.

Then there’s the side-by-side vs. “French doors” option with the freezer on the bottom.  There are countless other considerations, not the least of which are color and price.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to get two people to agree on a black refrigerator with “French doors?”

But somewhere in the midst of all the haranguing, a thought popped into my brain.  “Wait a minute; if we get a new refrigerator, then we’ll have to put the old one in the garage.”

A smile snuck across my face.  A beer fridge would soon be mine.  The old white kitchen appliance that had not drawn more than a second look since we bought the house in 2001 was now a thing of great beauty; an object of desire even.

So today as the black beauty with “French doors” made its way from the warehouse to ours, my teenage son and I prepared the space.

“Dad,” he said, “How cool is it that we are going to have a refrigerator in the garage!” 

I had not mentioned to anyone how happy I was to have my own little 22 cu. ft. of cooling heaven.

“I thought I was the only one who thought so,” I said, a little bewildered.

“No way, Dad, It’s a guy thing.  You gotta have a fridge in the garage,” he said.

To be clear, there will be beer in the garage unit.  There will also be Gatorade, Cokes, bottled water, and probably pasta salad for the upcoming pot-luck.

It’s not about the beer.  It’s about the option of having beer should you want one.  It’s about opportunity, freedom and that feeling of having arrived.  Another feather in my man-cap.

Perhaps if you are reading this, you are shaking your head.  You may be thinking I’ve had mine stuffed in the 22 cu. ft. cooling unit or something.

That’s ok.  It’s a guy thing.