How high is the fridge


I was with my friend, Elaine, this afternoon, when my son rang me to tell me about an achievement. He had some free time on his hands, as his girlfriend, who likes to be called Krusti, (though she’s not crusty) wasn’t around. Mid-sentence, he suddely started making “Ugh! Errr! Yuck! What the…” noises. I asked him what was wrong, and he shouted:

“The cat’s done a crap on the fridge. What’s going on? Why would she do a thing like that? It’s horrible. It’s a classic cat-shit – you know, the kind that can’t be anything but cat shit. I’ve got to go now. I have question her about it. She’s got some explaining to do.” (He has a close relationship with his cat, and thinks he may have been a cat in a previous life, so he was probably serious.)

He came out with a few shock-horror expletives, then tried to excuse her by saying that maybe she’d been unable to get outside in time. He repeated that he was going to find Rusty and interrogate her about it, and put the phone down.

Roaring with laughter, and with tears in my eyes, I told Elaine what had happened. My explanation went something like this:

“(Ho ho hee hee), Rusty (gaffaw), Rusty’s done a (hahahahaha) crap on the fridge, and Paul has gone off to (roar, choke, cough) question her. I expect he’ll try to make her clear it up.”

Elaine looked at me stonily. “I don’t think that’s funny,” she said.

I carried on laughing, at the same time trying to remember Paul’s exact words, so that she’d share the joke. I mentioned that he thought Rusty may not have been able to get outside.

Now she looked puzzled.“Jane. It’s not funny… how high is the fridge?”

I’d never seen Elaine so po-faced. She usually laughs at the things I find funny. Being too slow to come up with “Dunno, but it smells pretty high right now,” I stood up, and held the side of my forefinger against my forehead.

“How did she get up there?” she asked.

I explained. “There’s a window beside the fridge. She’d have jumped onto the sill, and then onto the fridge. She often gets up there.”

“What?” She shook her head as if to loosen the dust of disbelief. “Has she ever done anything like that before?”

I couldn’t understand why she was so upset by my hilarity.

“No, she’s usually very clean, apart from all the hairs on the carpet. She’s long-haired, so it’s a bit of a nightmare hoovering up after her.”

“What?” she said again, but she must have decided to gloss over the hair issue, since she added “Why would Krusti crap on the fridge? Is she mad?”

That finished me. It took a while to splutter out the words “not… Krusti… Rusty…. the cat.”

Finally she saw the funny side, but by then, I almost needed medical attention, and by the time she’d stopped laughing at the misunderstanding, so did she.

You may call me squeamish, but in the interests of good taste, I chose to forego an image for this post. 😉 🙂 😀

©Jane Paterson Basil

39 thoughts on “How high is the fridge

  1. And just how did the conversation with Rusty end up ? Maybe he could train her/him/it to poo in the toilet and flush.We had a cat in Finland who taught herself to do that, ‘cept she never got the hang of flushing. And the first time she fell in. Didn’t stop her though 🙂 true story

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m impressed – I’ve never heard of a cat doing that – using the toilet, I mean. Cats are fascinated by flushing toilets, and I’ve seen a few fall in. That’s another thing we shouldn’t laugh at, but it’s hard not to. I had a cat that kept falling into the bath. She hated it, but she never learnt…

      Liked by 1 person

  2. LOL! Don’t you love it when something really is truly funny? It makes your endorphins spike and you feel good all over for awhile. That was hilarious. It’s really true what they say Laughter really is the best medicine. Well, next to homemade chicken soup which really does have some anti-inflammatory properties. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s always best not to combine those two medicines; Raili made me laugh a few minutes ago while I was eating an olive, and I choked on it – so chicken soup first, then a short rest, followed by laughter as prescribed 😀

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. I’ve just checked out your blog. I hope you stick with it. You’re funny, and you say things that others think, but don’t admit to. there’s something very English about your posts, and I’d be interested to see how Americans react to them.
      I’m English. Oi lives doon yer een Dubm where us chews grass all day long. (I live down here in Devon where we chew grass all day long).


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