My husband knows that there is another man in my life. Someone I love, and who fulfills me in a way that he cannot.
His name is Joe. Trader Joe.
I might just leave my husband for him. In fact, I do leave my husband for him. Every Sunday, I traipse over to Trader Joe’s. I romp around in the produce section. I get lost in the depths of his wine aisles.
But the thing about Joe that makes me just go weak at the knees? His very well-endowed frozen food section.
I’m a big fan of frozen foods. After a long day at work, it’s so easy to just take something out of the freezer, pop it in the oven, and enjoy a hot, delicious meal in about 20 minutes flat.
The only problem? I sometimes go a little overboard. I’ll come home after a trip to Joe’s place, and will be laden with bags upon bags of that yummy frozen goodness. Last month was one of those times.
“Clearly, your mother’s stocking up for a bomb shelter, kids,” my husband announced as he helped me unload the car.
I gave him a dirty look as I lovingly loaded up the freezer with the cute little Mexican quiches. The Mandarin Chicken with tangy shoyu sauce. And finally, the creme-de-la-creme: the Mini Mint ice cream sandwiches.
But when I went to close the door, I got a surprise. It wouldn’t fit. I had to sadly admit that Joe, in all of his glorious frozen splendor, was just too much man for my puny little freezer.
But still I tried. I rearranged, shoved, and packed things in, shut the door, and walked away.
Little did I know that Joe couldn’t be contained. Somehow, in the middle of the night, he burst forth from the confines of the freezer, and the door became ajar. By the next morning, everything had melted.
All I was left with was a wet spot. A very wet spot. All over my kitchen floor.
The worst part about it wasn’t the money. It wasn’t the 150 bones I had dropped the day before… although that did sting. Trader Joe’s lovin’ ain’t cheap, you know.
The worst part about the whole incident was parting ways with all of the uneaten culinary delights that morphed into a warm, dripping mess inside my Frigidaire.
And as I emptied the freezer, I said a tearful goodbye to the treasures from Joe that would never be consumed.
Farewell, Mandarin Chicken. Adios, cute little quiches. So long, Mini Mint ice cream sandwiches. I think I’ll miss you most of all.
Needless to say, I learned my lesson. Somewhat. Even though the frozen food section at Joe’s still makes my heart go all a-flutter, I do try to restrain myself. Somewhat.
I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that, while my love for Trader Joe may have no limits, my freezer certainly does.
I’m a strong woman. But I know I just can’t handle having my heart melt like that all over again.