Padlocks on Refrigerators?
The problem: My mom would spend days preparing for a dinner party, a family gathering, a holiday feast. Miniature cheesecakes, bite-sized kugels, and cookies of all varieties were plentiful. And, as fast as the foods were created, packaged and stored away for “company,” we (my siblings and I) would begin to devour the goodies, one-by-one. Each time I opened the container and helped myself to whatever was inside, I had to re-jigger the contents to make it appear as though nothing had been removed. As days ticked by and the changes became more obvious, it became more and more difficult to hide the shrinkage. By the time the party rolled around, there would often be just a few crumbs left evidencing what used to be inside the container. I would know something was wrong when my mother would shriek, “Who ate all of the [fill-in-the-blank]?!”
And the solutions: Tape the containers shut (too easy . . . we just ripped up the tape.) Place the containers in the cabinets way up high (that’s why ladders were invented.) Hide the containers (now, this solution created just another compulsion to play seek and find, which will be the subject of future blogs.) Place the containers under lock and key (now you’re talking!) Yes, holes were drilled into wooden cabinets and key-locks were installed to keep grubby hands off the goodies hidden inside. Refrigerators were bolted shut. Some cabinets, holding the “good stuff” even utilized combination locks to prevent nighttime raids.
I look back at this part of my childhood, and chuckle!. I am reminded of the famous line, “we mock the things we are to be.” I don’t know who authored this quote, but I first heard it from Mel Brooks, as he channeled the 2013-year-old-man. The quote means that we poke fun of the same things that later in life we tend to adopt and repeat. I have resorted to hiding foods and putting them in cabinets “way up high,” but have only dreamed about padlocking the refrigerators in my own house! It’s hard to resist, but today, would probably enrage social services and give reason to have my name inked in the tabloid headlines. However, it’s often tempting.
OFS-ers Tip-of-the-Day: Sadly, I don’t have one! I’m open for suggestions on how to avoid the frequent raids, or, how to diminish the compulsion to want to do the raids in the first place. Thoughts anyone?