M is for the Monster in my Fridge

If you are anything like me, you have probably spent some time pondering the great questions in life:

Why are we here? What is the meaning of life? Who are the "they" in the those sentences, i.e."You know what they say, you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink" or "You know what they say, it's always darkest before the dawn" (Well DUH! When else would it be the darkest)? 

While these thoughts often leave us baffled, there is one of the great mysteries of the world that I am happy to be able to solve for you: How do you know when sour cream has gone bad?

This question perplexed me for quite a while. How do you tell if sour cream has gone sour? I mean sour is in the name. Hasn't it already gone bad? Yet we still eat it. 

Well, one day I found out the answer. I was making something that called for a 1/2 cup of it. When I went into the refrigerator and picked up the sour cream, it moved. Startled, I set it back on the shelf and thought WTH? I looked around to see if anyone else had seen it, then remembered I was home alone, my dogs were outside and my cat was next to me but was too busy inappropriately licking herself to have noticed. I stood there and watched for a second to see if I could detect any more movement. Nothing. Assuming I had imagined the whole thing, I grabbed the container again.

I'm not sure what happened next. All I can tell you is I opened the container, saw something green that abruptly jumped out of my hand, growled at my cat and was last seen heading North on I-75. Clearly, it had gone bad. But it didn't stop there. I had noticed some other strange things. The cheese was turning green. The eggs, well they were bad too. There was something in the back behind the crisper drawers that I can only assume used to be some sort of fruit or vegetable. It was now furry, possibly rabid, and smoking a cigarette. As I reached for it, I think it tried to bite me. Obviously, the sour cream was the ring leader in some evil plot to take over the refrigerator. I had discovered it just in time because it apparently it was also trying to convince some bread and onions in the pantry to join them. I grabbed some tongs and removed the furry monster from behind the drawer. It, the cheese, and the eggs met their demise in the garbage disposal. 

I still have my suspicions that the sour cream was not acting alone. Every once in a while, the strawberries start to get that white fur on them that I now recognize as a gang tatt. The milk tries to go bad sometimes, too. But my money is on the baking soda. It has been there the longest, sitting in silence, plotting, just waiting for the day it can escape and catch up with the sour cream and take over the world.

Until then, another evil plot has been foiled. I don't want to go calling myself a hero, so I'll let you do it. Meanwhile, be on the lookout for that gangsta sour cream, and keep your refrigerators locked. I hear it's looking for a new hideout.

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