I just had one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Thank God no one actually SAW it. I sent the Hubby out into the yard to do chores so he would not share in my shame (although he probably caused more than his fare share of it). Naturally, I decided to share my mortification with all of you.

Now, honestly, how often do you clean out your fridge?  Not just checking for stinky cheese and expired salad dressings, but take everything out and scrub the shelves and walls. If you are like me, the answer would be “I didn’t know you were supposed to do that.” Come on, seriously — once a month? Once a year? Once a decade?

With the holidays coming up, I knew it was time to make some room for trays of candy apples, chocolate pretzel rods, and a full Christmas dinner. My fridge was already packed (because, I am  a grocery shopping addict) and I knew I needed to make room for pies, turkeys and extra wine and so forth. So I figured a Saturday morning would be a good time to do a little cleaning out and rearranging for maximum space.

And then I started taking things out.

Easter bunnies, tons of Christmas candy (LAST years), tiny jam jars which expired two years ago.  A Costa Rican juice box and a cool version of Costa Rican Oreos (keep in mind, we were there in June of 2009). Oops.

I took out all the shelves on the door and sopped up the leaky salad dressings and marinade goo.

Then my morning took a disgusting turn.  I took out the shelves and drawers in the main section.  Do you know what is living under your cheese drawer?

I sure as heck did not. I wasn’t’ sure if it was alive or long dead.  Any health inspector would have fined me more than my mortgage payment. OSHA would shut this kitchen down.  I was going to take a picture of it, but I think I would feel less embarrassed and exposed if I posted a picture of myself eating ice cream naked.

And my MOTHER might see it {shivers of housewife failure}.

Parmesan cheese (I hope) and a glass of chocolate milk or perhaps black olive juice covered the bottom. It looked like something from a black and white fifties horror flick.  I broke out the pure bleach and gloves. My sponge was not touching this jiz, so I wadded up a roll of paper towels and used a frosting knife to pry the solidified crud.

I am just shocked my family hasn’t been hospitalized for any strains of food-borne illness.

It was pure nastiness. I had no idea.

When it was all sanitized, organized, and put back together, I felt like the little lady from Poltergiest: This fridge is CLEAN. 

My PSA for the day:  unless you prepping for your kids’ future science fair project, discover what is lurking at the bottom and back of your fridge…and be prepared with a gas mask and hazmat suit, preferably.