I had the not so enviable task of defrosting the freezer tonite. Why yes, I am a 1950s housewife. Later on I'll be taking out some t-bones from the icebox for Jimmie and little Sally.... One thing is for certain, that fridge is from at least as far back as the Eisenhower administration. My landlord is too cheap to purchase a new one. I started out the ladylike way with patience and a small spray bottle. That worked to a point. And then I had to get native on the thing. At one point I pictured myself as a wolf, very primal. The real bitch was the tricky back panel, from which it was nearly impossible to pry the sheets of ice. There were small victories along the way. I found some vanilla soymilk that is still good and I was able to use the phrase "hey ese" for the first time ever. Ultimately the fridge won, as a pancake flipper (used as a scraping device) was forever mangled and the number of towels needed to soak up the mess sent me to the laundromat, which was quite dicey tonite. Fun was had by none.