There is a tupperware dish of old, OLD, strawberries sitting in my sink.
Sometimes this happens.
Containers will work their way to the back of the refrigerator, hoping to find comfort among the old jars of jelly and whatever I bought when I was pregnant because it sounded good, but then I never ate it.
Not that there's a lot of this going on. But it happens.
I guess my husband was motivated to clean some things out of the refrigerator, but not motivated to wash the dish.
I'm scared to open the dish.
So no one wants to open or wash the dish.
I bet if I gave it to the baby to open, he'd open it.
But then there'd be a huge, yucky mess. Not that that's unusual either.
Maybe today. Maybe today I'll open it.
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