Maid For Me

“Ewwwwaaarrgh”. My anguish reverberates through the room.

The Viking, our resident Yuckfighter, is immune to my drama, but his curiousity drags him to the kitchen.

“What?” he enquires casually, coming to peer into the refrigerator with me.

“Unless thats a dead kitten in our fridge, dear, then its broccoli thats been there so long that it has inhaled CFC’s, grown itself some fluffy fur and become the latest new life form on planet Earth.”

The Viking, being brave and the sort who is undeterred by The Grossest Levels of Gross, reaches in.

“Ewww. For heavens sake, put some gloves on!” I scream.

“Why? We’re not exactly going to do a forensic report.” he replies dryly.

Offending object is quickly removed, thought I couldn’t say with total certainty since my eyes were tightly shut and I had also ceased to breathe through my nose. As you can guess, I’m a total trooper.

“There!” says the Viking once done and I venture to view the world again.

“While we’re at it,” he says, “you might want to know that we have a couple of potatoes in there that are breeding…err.. grandchild potatoes off their hip.”

Egads! “Get rid of it. Please! Live up to the intrepid Viking stereotype and wipe them clean off the face of the earth!”

“We wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with if you’d lived up to your Good Indian Wife stereotype, would we?” comes the tart rejoinder.

Officially too pissed to say touché. But guess who’s disinfecting the fridge? You guessed it. The Good Indian Wife. Gah!


Epilogue to Mother

Dear Mother, This is an exaggerated version of events. This is a fictional account. I am a wonderful wife and housekeeper and our home is a temple. We worship at the altar of Jif. Please don’t call me about this unless we suddenly collapse, having been inflicted with a biblical pestilence. And yes, we should clean the fridge more often. But that would leave less time for the kids.

And T.V.

And sex.

And not necessarily in the order mentioned above.

You didn’t fail. This is all me. Good night.

Dedicated to MiM. You’ll never walk alone:-)



Filed under domesticity, Home

17 responses to “Maid For Me

  1. Aarggh. I know the feeling (and the stench). Just posted about my own freezer turning on me.

  2. shetalkslikejune

    Women like you bring shame to the good name of Indian women.:P How could you let your husband parmeshwar lift a broccoli, a rotten one at that.

    This post should have been named clash of stereotypes! Why should a tender bud (kamseen kalee/)of an Indian wife have to pick up stuff when thor’s own spawn is around.

  3. shetalkslikejune

    P.S: I am doing that blog rolling thig with you.

  4. Once, going on a month’s holiday, I took care not to switch off the fridge, but with great foresight, switched off the mains just as I was leaving the door.

    Coming back after a month and opening that fridge door was what can only be called a life-altering experience. I became a humble and I should hope, a better human being after a deep breathe-in of all those noxious fumes and one look at the rotting vegetables which looked as if painted over by Dali… 🙂

  5. maidinmalaysia

    thanks for the dedication: really this should be the tag, that’s going round — motherhood in 80 clicks is so passe…

    i have my own fridge horror story: we came back from a 10-day-vacation. we re-entered home ready to entertain sisters-in-law (of every shape and kind) nieces and nephews (very excitably jumping off the walls to be with us )

    … and the fridge smelt of 10-day-old milk -(vomit+ dried vomit begins to describe what i am saying).

    the fav. sister-in-law did the cleaning up …
    and they haven’t visited us since

  6. My own horror story – coming back from a holiday to find that the fridge had conked off due to a power surge which killed the compressor. Can never forget the maggots in the veggies!(Yuck). I had to clean out every single groove in the fridge, something that as Rada says, was “life-altering”!

    • shal247

      @Wordjunkie: Just read it! My sympathies. Blood-curdling stuff.

      @ June: Kamseen Kali! Harhar. Yeah thats me – NOT:-) I do answer to Queen of Melodrama though. And I’ve been driving the Viking round the bend all day by referring to him loudly as Spawn of Thor while we were gardening. Sheesh! That slipped out. I normally don’t admit to gardening.

      @Rada and @Meena: Maggots???? You win! But c’mon, you guys at least had the excuse that you’d been gone for a while. Whats our excuse?:-) and Rada, the Dali bit was genius:-)

      @MiM: Well done! Alienating fav. sis-in-law and all:-) 10 day old milk? We have to try that sometime. How did the three-day-behind-the-sofa-dosa fare? And you’re right. This is SO tagworthy! Domestic Horrors in 80 clicks!

  7. Era

    Nothing like a good fridge horror story. It’s also fortunate that God created husbands to take care of some of the… less desirable tasks. 🙂

  8. Errr.I experince this trauma the weekend before mom/ mom in law come to visit.

    Many unidentifiable stenchy objects(USO henceforth)are discovered, which i have no recollection of what they were to start with.

    Domestic horror stories..i’m all for it:-)

    • shal247

      @ILWML: USO? lol. I can see the day when I’ll need to use that catchy phrase:-) As for patenting advice, I concur!

      @Era: Less desirable? What are you now, a diplomat?:-) Lets just call the “ick” a “Maha-ewww” shall we?

  9. maidinmalaysia

    the dosa wasnt really all that bad, because it was in a dubba.

    no puking, only mild retching at odour.

  10. ..ah USO. Hmmm. Strangely enuf I havent had it yet in two years of shaadi. I am feeling very persecuted now. hmof

  11. Pingback: Domestic Horrors in 80 clicks « Twopointthree kids, sixpointsix ideas on raising them

  12. The horror, the horror!
    Methinks frost free technology can safely be blamed. The good old iceberg generating fridges demanded regular cleaning, damn them!
    Science projects would happen even then:(

  13. @Dipali! You’re so right! And I still remember those “iceberg generators” with fondness – not that I ever cleaned them out though! Not so fond then, maybe?

  14. Dottie

    Blame it on the fridge. They should self-clean, no? Like the good ovens?

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