Never thought I’d feel THIS much about a fridge. But I guess if I look at it, fridges have always meant more. See when we went dumpster diving for food, our kitchen and clothes always smelled of that sour smell. And the fridge? Even worse- moldy meat and sticky stains. And then when we lived in shelters, you were given allotted times on specific days, where you could cook in the kitchen. And your food was labeled so you couldn’t just eat anything out of the fridge. And you had one shelf. That means if someone had more money to buy better food, you could just look at it. Never taste it. And then when you’re in foster care you lose the privilege of being able to open the fridge altogether. You have to ask to open the fridge. Ask for food every time you were hungry. There’s a strange shame that comes with that. Knowing that the State has to pay for your food, so you never dare to eat too much, because how much is really yours? Well, she arrived and is more glorious than the Costco photos. She’s got this middle drawer that I can make into a snack drawer for the girls, but so far I’ve only color coded with cookies! Ha! And there’s even an ice maker!!! And the freezer is on the bottom!! Whaaaa???! 
So ladies and gents- I present to you, Our Family Fridge. I’m still thinking on her name, but she’ll get one 🤍