Today when I got home from Walmart, I realized I needed to do a little cleaning before I could put the groceries away. I’m a little bit a food hoarder. I’m always saying, “I’ll eat this leftover _____”  eventually and then I never do. Eventually, my fridge is overflowing with nasty, smelly, stinky leftovers that no one wants, and cleaning them out is a chore I put off for another couple weeks. My kitchen reeked when I finally emptied out the creepy crawly food containers this afternoon and flushed the contents down the garbage disposal. I had to open a window and spray some room refresher around the kitchen. And you thought I was so clean after my clean kitchen post earlier. Don’t be fooled!

While I was pulling expired condiments, rotton produce and icky leftovers from the fridge this afternoon, my little helper, Mr. Micah himself, was pulling stuff out as well. He had to climb up into the fridge to reach the good stuff.

He loves the refrigerator. He loves it so much, that if you open the door while he is in the living room, he will hear you and come running. He will literally RUN to the fridge and try to climb in. He pulls open the produce drawers. He grabs condiments out of the door and carries the Tabasco sauce around like it’s his new favorite toy. He shakes the apple cider vinegar and holds the apple butter jar like a treasure, before dropping it on the floor, that is. I know that in fifteen years or so, I will be having a serious case of dejavu when I see my teenage son digging through the fridge and eating everything in sight. It will look just like this photo, except he will no longer need to climb in to reach.