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I have a dead body in my deep freeze.

When I started this week (not so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed), I never imagined such a thing!

What made it worse was that I forgot there was a dead body in my freezer until I went to dig out a bag of french fries. “Oh,” I thought, “that’s weird”. What’s in this big box on top of the….OH!”

A dead body in the freezer is pretty weird. What makes it ever weirder is that it’s not the first one.

Before you accuse me of being a serial killer, both of the deceased expired of natural causes. Their tickers just plain wore out. And before you accuse me of offing Hubby or my offspring (believe me, there may have been a few moments when I almost understand why some mothers eat their young), both of the bodies belonged to dead rodents.

I’m not sure how having dead rodents in my freezer
makes it any less weird.

Both rodents were pets. (I have a deep-seated fear of rodents who don’t live in cages).

The first body was Big Guy’s hamster, Fidget. Since Big Guy lives in an apartment, and tossing his little friend into the dumpster was a vivid assault on his wounded heart, he laid her to rest in his own freezer (there’s nothing else in there) until he could visit and bury her in my yard. The problem was, he arrived some time after midnight, and not wanting to disturb the neighbours by digging in the back corner of the yard, he tucked her in her baggy casket, in my freezer…the one upstairs, next to the waffles and English muffins. Imagine my surprise in the morning when I went to make a special breakfast for my boys…

Hamster

Fidget

Fidget is safely ensconced in the back corner of our yard. And once the ground thaws, that’s where the second (and most recent body) will be laid to rest. One of our two guinea pigs expired while I was at dance class Tuesday night. I came home elated to have survived another hour without injury, to find two distraught gentlemen and a pile of tissues. Guinea was breathing her last in the cage in the basement (lights on), while Rock Star huddled in her plastic igloo in…my laundry basket. Once Little Guy had been consoled and gently tucked into bed, I went to the basement to say my “good-byes” too. Guinea was already gone.

The next question – now what? I couldn’t toss  a member of the family into the trash. She was too big to flush (that was another terrible tale). And the ground is still frozen.

I have a dead body in my deep freeze.

I carefully laid our little one in a cardboard box (the first box was too small and I had to stand there with this rapidly stiffening creature while Hubby grabbed another). I wrapped the box in a bag…and now…I have a dead body in my deep freeze.

I also no longer have a craving for french fries.

Happy Weekend!

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