Okay, I’m sorry. I know this is a disgusting topic, but the bat with the maggots crawling out its head just brought back a flood of maggot-related memories and I was compelled to share them. This story in particular is one I’ll never forget. You may never forget it either if you take the time to read it.
My dad had this place on the Ouachita River, a mobile home which was maybe one step up from a camper. I remember Clementine, who was about 4 at the time, called it “The Lake House,” which was hilarious to me since a Lake House conjures up images of very nice second homes and not one bedroom trailers with a green tub and stained linoleum. He let us use it whenever we wanted and we had friends in the area so we tried to use it several times a year.
One summer when I was the mom of only 2 girls, a friend and I made plans for a weekend trip for our two families. They would bring their camper and stay at the nearby campground and we would stay in the “Lake House”. We had planned to leave Friday afternoon as soon as our husbands got off work. Unfortunately, my husband called that day with news that he had to go in Saturday morning for a little while and couldn’t leave until them.
Now this was a time when I reacted very immaturely to announcements that my husband had to work more. Instead of appreciating the fact that he had a good job, that he was a hard, dependable worker and that he did it all for us, depriving himself of fun to support our family, I whined a lot and felt mistreated.
As a result of my poor attitude, I hated to miss out on one minute of fun and since my friends were still leaving Friday night, I loaded up the girls and our already packed bags and decided to go ahead on my own and let Clark come up after work the next day.
By the time we got there it was dark. My friend and her husband stopped by the mobile home to make sure we got in ok. But when I went inside I realized the electricity was off.
There was no way of knowing how long the power had been off or what happened. Luckily, her husband was with us and able to figure it all out and get it back on. It seemed the problem was solved.
Until we opened the refrigerator to put away some milk.
Here is where my story takes a turn for the worse, internets, and many of you with weak stomachs may want to stop reading or put down your breakfast bar.
What greeted us inside the refrigerator is something no one should ever have to see. Ever surface, every food source, every disgusting, dripping, smelly piece of food was crawling with maggots. And at this point we hadn’t even opened the freezer. That realization would come a few minutes later. And it was packed with an assortment of meat.
At this point you may stop and wonder, how do maggots get inside a closed refrigerator? Well, this is something you may not want to dwell on. Because you might come to the conclusion that the eggs are always there just waiting to hatch in the right temperatures. And then none of us will ever have to worry about dieting again.
Some people may have been able to shut that refrigerator door and go to bed, Scarlett O’Hara-like and “think about it tomorrow.” But I couldn’t. The thought of maggots crawling around a few feet away from our sleeping heads was more than I could endure.
My friend and I tackled the disaster. I’ve blocked out much of what was involved with this horrific clean-up, but I know it involved countless garbage bags, a lot of bleach and late hours.
And when we were done, I still didn’t sleep well, nor did I eat well the entire weekend.
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