Our new fridge arrived today, and I think we are naming him Paris. After discussing past fridges, our last who went unnamed and suffered a variety of problems from the start, and our stalwart fridge before that, named Hubble who lasted just as long as the space telescope he was named after, we started entertaining the superstition that naming our fridge would ensure its longevity.
Of course Paris is a bittersweet name. Lisa posted earlier that we got a refrigerator instead of a trip to Paris and sadly it seems true. And while France seems to have a plan of starting a path to normalcy mid May, so many things need to fall into place before we can plan that (or any other) trip again.
It was then no surprise that we both came to the conclusion that the fridge had to be named Paris. I’d like to think Paris is already improving our mojo as bringing him in forced us to address some of our household neglect ( we vacuumed for the first time since confinement) after which we lounged in the living room, reading our books with an appropriately chilled cocktail by our side, finally taking pleasure in some time off. Soon, with Paris the sophistication of crushed ice will become a regular part of our life - not to mention a deli drawer accessible Brie or chèvre - “we got it in Paris” we can say, as we wait for the borders to open again.
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