Squirt Go Boom

A couple of days ago we were watching TV in the living room and heard a loud boom from the kitchen along with a strange rattling sound. It kind of sounded like the sound the icemaker sometimes makes when it dumps into the empty bin.

The cat bravely went to investigate, so I figured I'd back him up. The freezer turned up nothing, but the fridge held a surprise. The top was covered in what looked to be frost, like what you'd see in an old non-self-defrosting model freezer (yes, I'm that old). There were also chunks of ice laying around and on the stuff inside. As I was pondering how the icemaker had somehow exploded through the bottom of the freezer compartment into the refrigerator, I noticed something clear in the back of the upper shelf.


I should have gotten a picture of the ice sculpture in the fridge, but I didn't think about it until it was too late.




I've seen the explosive power of soda before. Once in Anchorage, L set a six-pack down on the counter and one blew it's top and spewed all over the kitchen. Then there was that time when I was riding the grocery cart through the parking lot like a dog sled musher, and the 12 pack I had on the bottom slipped off the front and I ran over it, jamming it up under the cart and scraping it along the asphalt. Soda started spewing everywhere as L tried to hide her face in the shame of being seen with me. I think 3 or 4 cans survived intact.