The Kitchen Campaign: An All-Clear and Present Danger

By Sharie Derrickson

Both my husband and daughter have begun their latest campaign, which is to remodel our kitchen. They have made up cute little campaign buttons that say, “Vote Yes to Remodeling,” and they march around my kitchen wearing giant sandwich boards covered in kitchen remodeling propaganda, and scream, “WHAT DO WE WANT? A NEW KITCHEN! WHEN DO WE WANT IT? WE WANT IT NOW!” into one of those bullhorns.

Apparently, the thing that has come out of their latest strategy session is to take me shopping, and somehow, make it so we end up in the appliance department, and then, they begin working on me with their talking points.

“Mom, you would look great standing next to this large capacity stainless steel refrigerator. Come over here so we can get a look,” my daughter says. “Oh, wait, I brought my camera – let’s get a photo of you with it.”

And for a minute, I am almost suckered. “You really think I would look good next to it?” I say, as I put on fresh lipstick.

“Sure you would,” my husband says. “Stainless steel is your color.”

“Well, okay then. But just one quick photo, and don’t take it so my butt looks too big.”

“Oh, I won’t,” my daughter says as she moves me next to the behemoth of a fridge. “You will look tiny next to this fridge.”

I then stand still, place my hand on the side of the fridge, and give my best smile. Then, reality sets in and I think to myself, “Why am I getting my picture taken next to a refrigerator? It’s a little weird – even for me.”

“Can I ask why I am getting my photo taken with an appliance?” I ask them.

“It’s a surprise,” they tell me.

“Oh, okay,” I say, not wanting to spoil whatever surprise they have for me that might include a picture of me standing next to a refrigerator.

It is all part of their systematic indoctrination plan. It is how they operate. They did it to me when they wanted a dog. They did it to me when they wanted new towels. They did it to me when they wanted a Christmas tree. They devise this elaborate plan to somehow draw me in, confuse me – then they bombard me with subliminal messages that I actually need new towels, a Christmas tree, a dog, or a fridge. They are very tricky, these two.

Unfortunately, I usually realize that I have been duped when it’s too late – we now have a dog, new towels, and I already have the tree picked out. Now, they want a new kitchen because, apparently, the kitchen we have is not “kitcheny” enough, and according to my daughter, it’s dangerous.

For me, it has all I need – a fridge, a microwave, and a can opener. I am a minimalist. I can walk to my fridge and pull out chicken tenders from the freezer, pop them in the microwave, and while the main entree is heating up, I can open a can of corn. Once the chicken is adequately nuked, I can zap the corn, and bingo, dinner is served.

But, both my husband and daughter actually like to cook. My husband likes to pound cutlets with this little hammer and roll stuff up. He likes to mince, julienne, garnish, and sauté. I don’t even know what that stuff is. He has tried explaining it to me, but just like when he talks about his work, my eyes glaze over and then, I’m lost. Apparently, my husband works with computers, which requires enough equipment in his office to power NASA. I’m not sure, but I think he might be a secret agent or something like that. Oooops. Not really, Mr. Fitzgerald. I was only joking. He’s just a computer nerd that likes to cook. Honest. He doesn’t even own a pair of dark sunglasses. Anyway . . .

My daughter, the true baker of the family, says that our kitchen is not conducive to culinary science. Okay, I want to know who taught her that – culinary science indeed. It’s called cooking. That’s it. Just cooking. There is nothing scientific about popping nuggets in the microwave – oh, wait, that is pretty scientific if you think about it. I am not sure how a microwave works and it seems weird to me that when you open a microwave, it isn’t hot, but somehow, your food is. Some army widget-guy tried to explain it to me once when we were using a giant microwave satellite dish to transmit images from Africa, but all I got out of the conversation is that I shouldn’t stand in front of it or I will cook my reproductive organs. That is why I never stay in my kitchen when I am using the microwave, and that is why I always forget I have stuff in the microwave and only remember it a week later when my kitchen starts to smell, and OSHA has to be brought in.

Back to my story. So, my daughter has a drawn a flowchart of perfect kitchen and then has written an essay on why our kitchen is an accident waiting to happen since it is an ergonomic nightmare and a lay-in-wait hazard of major proportions. I mean really, where does she get this stuff? It’s like we are storing nuclear waste or something.

Apparently, according to Kitchen Ergonomic Experts, the oven is supposed to be near the center of the kitchen. Ours is not. It is mounted on the wall on the far end of the room, just opposite the bathroom, so it you have to take something out of the oven, you can’t do it if someone is in the bathroom because they might walk out of the bathroom, knock you down, and sent your scalding pie all over the place. So, at my house, if someone is in the bathroom, you have to say loudly, “Don’t come out of the bathroom until the all clear is given,” and then the person in the bathroom is totally embarrassed that someone is talking to them while they are in the bathroom, and is very confused on what “the all clear” means.

Also, both my husband and daughter say that a dishwasher should work, and should not be there just for show. Our dishwasher broke about two years ago and we have yet to replace it.

They have picked out a new fancy-smancy one that is supposed to make pre-washing of dishes before they go into the dishwasher a thing of the past. I dislike new-fangled stuff, even if it can clean the bowls I left in the microwave.

Now, they both say that the refrigerator is too small, which is why I am getting my picture taken with white ones, black ones, stainless steel ones, ones that have doors on top, ones that have double doors, and ones with ice cube dispensers outside the door. I like the one with the ice cube dispenser because then, I don’t have to ever open the fridge to see how dirty it is inside.

I am not sure how I will vote on election day regarding the remodel of the kitchen. There are just too many factors to consider – cost, need, color, size, ergonomic-ness. Should we bite the bullet and do a complete remodel, upgrade what’s in there now, or just replace things as they come up? I do agree about moving the stove, though, and I am sure my guests will concur.

And I do like the stainless steel fridge – it makes me look skinny – and that’s what really counts.

© 2006 Sharie Derrickson. Previously printed in the Thousand Islands Sun.