- The Washington Times - Sunday, December 7, 2008

I’ve had refrigerator blindness for a long time. My eyesight is normal — until I open a refrigerator and look inside.

I can never find what I’m looking for.

I know it’s in there. I put it there myself. But I can’t see it.

Beer is the only thing I can find in the refrigerator without assistance from a Seeing Eye dog. If there’s beer in the fridge, I will find it. Every time.


I would say I “suffer” from refrigerator blindness, but it’s really my wife who suffers my condition. I always have to ask her where everything is.

“Honey, where’s the —”

“Did you look behind the milk?” she says before I can finish my question.

“What does the milk look like?” I say.

Over the years, I’ve gotten better at finding things in the refrigerator. I take my time and “look.” It might take several minutes and burn up a couple of kilowatt hours, but I often find stuff in the fridge.

But now my wife has resorted to magic to frustrate my progress.

The other day I was looking for a container of cream cheese. The only things in the fridge were three eggs, a carton of milk and a bottle of mustard.

I asked my wife where was the cream cheese. She said it was right there in the refrigerator, and I corrected her by listing the fridge’s contents.

I may have been a little smug — and that was my mistake.

She walked into the kitchen and locked her eyes on mine. Without looking, she reached into the refrigerator, flicked her wrist and pulled out the cream cheese.

“Ta da!” she said and took a bow.

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