Monday night I finally did it. I finally looked at the partial gallon of milk in the fridge that Brad bought in *mumble mumble*. Ok – December.
What?! I hear you judging me. I know it’s unforgivable, but that’s what happens when stuff gets old in there. I fear it. I fear the mold that lurks within, and I fear opening the container and releasing the spores in the air, only to lodge in my lungs and take root.
Therefore, I ignore.
But it was time. I actually found some old tomato sauce and cream of mushroom soup from who knows when. They had a bit of mold growing, but get this – the milk did not stink, nor was it chunky.
Honestly. I had held my breath in a preventative fashion, but curiosity took over and I sniffed. It was just a little off, not the rancid stench I would have guessed.
Is that because it is skim milk and it’s basically milk-flavored water? I’ll have to wait until Brad visits to run another test.