It finally happened. Astro-physicists say it’s been 600 years since it last occurred, and won’t occur again until 3043. I’m not talking about some comet, either. I’m talking about my freezer being cleaned out. Incredible, I know. I guess you could say the planets began to align when Wife and I decided to move across the country. Ever since then, we’ve been working towards a full-freezer eclipse, and finally, last night, we were blinded by the whiteness of a newly emptied icebox. That glazed look in your eyes tells me you’re either not impressed, or in a boredom-induced coma. Allow me to explain: Wife has what some reality television producers might call a “hoarding problem.” This is especially true with food, and especially food that can no longer be enjoyed by people, unless your name is Escherichia coli. Simply put, Wife has a very hard time throwing out food because she thinks it is wasteful, even if the food in question is wearing a fuzzy green beard and looks like it is trying to eat the other food. So, last night, wearing a full Hazmat suit and taking the same precautions that a scientist operating a cold fusion reactor would, I removed the following items from our near-bursting freezer: two packs of frozen peppers that had been used, on more than one occasion, to ice swollen feet; chicken breasts, expired during the Cuban Missile Crisis; a can of paint; four, half-empty containers of sour cream; pancakes (loose); one of Cat’s ball-toys; a frozen disc of unidentified liquid; and three dollars in change. Don’t worry, all of these hazardous materials are now in a concrete reinforced storage bin somewhere in New Mexico. With the exception of the pancakes. I’ll eat those later today.