So, Mr. Taters and I decided we needed to clean out the ol’ garage. We also decided it was time defrost the frozen freezer.
We’ve had ol’ Frosty about three years now and have NEVER, EVER, defrosted it. We moved it to our new house, full of frozen food and frost about two inches thick, last May, thinking we’d defrost it when we finished moving in. HAH!
So at 10:00 a.m. I head out to the garage and approach the Ol’ Frosty with some trepidation. I open the freezer, and quickly slam it shut. Then I slowly open the door again. I sigh, turn off the freezer and start scraping, and scraping, and scraping frost.
My hands turn red and raw and start going numb. Time to go in and run them under some water, check the Straight Dope, and have a little more coffee. Fifteen minutes later, I head back out to the freezer. Sigh, still there, still frozen. Scrape, bang, scrape, bang, chip, ouch dammit! scrape, bang, scrape, chip, bang. My tool of choice? A plastic spoon thingy that came with my rice cooker. Such a lethal weapon…
Hands are frozen again. Must warm them up. Back to the kitchen sink, turn on tap, run warm water over them. “Hmmm”, says I. “I should place a pot of hot water in Ol’ Frosty. That should help speed up the defrosting process!” So, I fill a pot and trot on out to the freezer.
I let the pot sit for a while, then back to the ol’ scrape, chip, bang, ouch dammit!, bang, scrape routine.
Well, it’s now 3:38 and Ol’ Frosty is still not done. :mad: My hands hurt and are raw! Now the scraping and chipping are accompanied by drip, drip, sop up water on the bottom of the freezer, wring out the towel, drip, scrap, bang, chip.
When, oh when will the frozen hellish experience be over?! I will NEVER, EVER, EVER, let Ol’ Frosty freeze up again. Yuppers, I’ve learned my lesson. I will never abuse my friendly freezer again!
Sigh, I must return to scraping, banging, wiping, and wringing. I think Mr. Taters will have to cook dinner tonight. I can’t feel my hands.