{41 and mothballs....}

Eric turned 41 today. We celebrated last night because he works late tonight - I KNOW, on HIS BIRTHDAY - and because my Mom couldn't be here today. Not that my Mom HAS to be here for Eric's birthday, but she did get him a gift, and that entitles you to a piece of cake. Right? Well, maybe that's just my rule.

Anyway, at 41 Eric is still the same as he was when he was just 40 - except now he wears a tie. Apparently, over 40 means FANCY. Guess I had better get my cocktail dresses out of storage. I still have a couple years, but I think I may need some time to get that mothball smell out.

And, now, this has ABSOLUTELY nothing to do with Eric, or turning 41, but I thought I would share a story, that probably only I think is funny...it has to do with mothballs.

My friends Tracy and Ian bought a house years ago from a an older woman. The house was in it's original condition when they bought it - I believe it had been built in the 60's. It had PINK carpeting, although some may have called it rose, and PINK walls. It also had the traditional pink bathroom, and baby blue bathroom. It was all kinds of awesome. If you saw the house the day they moved in and then saw the house today, you would swear it was a different house.

Anyway, the mothballs. So, of course, the night they moved in, we had a painting party, and painted all the walls white. PINK BE GONE! Tracy's Mom was kind enough to cater dinner - KFC. We ate quite a bit, and put the leftovers in the fridge, along with our cans of soda, and some delicious brownies that another friend had brought over. This is FLORIDA people. You can't leave food out. EVER. Unless you like ants.

The next day, they renovations continued. And we got hungry. So, we opened the fridge and prepared to eat the delicious chicken leftover from the night before.

Are you wondering what all of this has to do with mothballs? Are you hungry for KFC?

We all took out first bite of chicken, and then we all promptly spit it out. It tasted like MOTHBALLS!! WTF? How. In. The. Heck?

Okay fine. We'll get something else to eat. Let me just get a drink of my Coke.

HOLY CRAP! MOTHBALLS!! REALLY WTF? It's a SEALED can!!!!

And then we looked over at the tray of brownies. And then we cried, for these brownies are the BEST. BROWNIES. EVER. And now they also tasted like MOTHBALLS.

I don't know why they didn't kick the fridge to the curb at that point, but they didn't. I recall Tracy froze some meat in the freezer soon after they moved in. She defrosted it, and made dinner with it - and guess what? MOTHBALLS. Then they kicked the fridge to the curb.

I guess the original owner was so OBSESSED with not having moths, she put mothball EVERYWHERE. Including behind the refrigerator. After years of it being in the vents for the fridge, it became the mothball refrigerator.

Thus endeth the mothball story. Don't you feel better now?

And HAPPY BIRTHDAY ERIC! We're having mothballs for dinner tonight!