Refrigerators are notoriously tall. To a little guy who’s in the 12″ range (Hah! That’s another kitchen appliance. I just kill myself!!), the top a fridge is like the tip of Mount Kilimanjaro. It should be way beyond my wildest expectations to reach this wild and untamed area of the kitchen. But I, of course, am Onecoolgriff and know no bounds. No ocean too deep, no brush too dense, no dog too big, no bedding too soft, no lap too warm… ah, but I digress.
The refrigerator- there’s stuff up there. Might not be interesting stuff, maybe not good stuff, but stuff. And it could, by all means, be some really great stuff. How would one know, who is only 12″ tall?
But it intrigues me. It occupies my mind, this stuff up there. I have a burning desire to know. I eat, drink, and sleep top-of-fridge-stuff. OK, so you got me there., When I’m eating, I’m thinking about eating. But the rest of the time, I am absolutely obsessed with the stuff up there.
The things I could do with that stuff: Is it something to eat? A toy to be played with? An important receipt to be chewed up and spit out? The possibilities are almost endless. And yet I remain clueless. About the contents of the fridge top, I mean.
I’ve politely asked to get a look. Just a peek, please? But the cute little monkey-faced-dog-thing-with-the-big-sad-eyes is going nowhere. And annoying? Can I ever do annoying. Whining, pacing, spinning, jumping up on the door, whining while spinning, panting while pacing, I’ve exhausted my repetiore. And almost impossible to believe, my people seem impervious to my antics.
So I’ve decided to put on my big boy pants and do this on my own. Being small in stature, I sometimes forget I have big boy pants. My charm usually sways any difficult situation my way. But Mom isn’t being real helpful, and Dad is really acting the dense guy part. Who needs your peeps to help you get into trouble anyway? So far, I’ve figured out how to jump up onto the dry sink in the corner. Between the dry sink and the fridge is the water cooler. Now this is the tricky part because it’s a little wiggly and top-heavy. I’m still working out the details before I bust this move. But I will get up there and then it’s the last frontier. An epic moment in the life of this slightly compulsive-obsessive Griff. I will have reached the summit. All the secrets of the top of the refrgerator will be mine to behold. I’m so close- I can almost taste victory. It is almost within my grasp.
Whew! All of this reconnoitering and positioning is exhausting. I need a drink and a comfortable chair while I mull this one over.
The stuff on the fridge may have won this battle, but the war’s not over yet. I’ll keep you posted- the sweet victory will be shared by each and every one of us. And we know who we are- those dogs who need to defy reason (and probably gravity, in this case) to get a bigger bite of the pie. We will prevail.