Blueberry disaster

I buy the industrial sized bag of frozen wild blueberries, because we eat them a lot. This morning I grabbed the bag and whipped it out of the freezer. Apparently the zip top was not properly zipped. A full four pounds of blueberries went flying all over the kitchen.

I got down and started scooping them up with my hands, which turned a dark bluish purple color. Of course, Sarah appeared during this time and had to walk through the kitchen. For fifteen minutes, I plucked blueberries off the floor while imagining that I was on a sunny green hill in upstate New York picking blueberries off bushes.

The floor was not exactly clean, but I put all the blueberries back in the bag anyway, because they're very expensive and I couldn't stand to waste them. Then I had to wipe all the blue stains off the floor and appliance doors. Just when I thought I was done, I opened the freezer to put the bag back, and a bunch of blueberries came tumbling out. They were all over the inside of the freezer, snuggled in between all the packages of frozen food.

I put them all back in the bag, zipped it up tight, and put it in the freezer. When I got out of the shower, there was the evil bag of blueberries sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, unzipped. I felt like I was in a bad horror movie. I was staring at the bag, thinking I must be losing my mind because I was sure I had put them away. Enter Sarah with blue smears all over her face.

She smiled, revealing blue teeth, and said, "I got some blueberries all by myself!" About an hour later, I noticed a blueberry peeking out from under the refrigerator. I swiped a ruler under there and pulled out several mushy blueberries. While I was lying on the floor, I noticed a few more blueberries under the cabinets. It's like a plague. They're everywhere! I don't think I'll ever get them all. We'll probably have to move.