One afternoon, a woman walked into her kitchen feeling a bit hungry. She opened the refrigerator door, expecting to grab a snack. But the moment the light flicked on, she nearly dropped the door in shock.
Sitting calmly on one of the shelves, between the milk and a jar of pickles, was a rabbit.
Yes… a rabbit.
The lady blinked twice, thinking maybe she was imagining things. The rabbit, however, looked perfectly comfortable, like it had been living there for years.
Confused, she leaned closer and asked,
“Excuse me… what on earth are you doing in my refrigerator?”
The rabbit slowly turned its head toward her, completely relaxed, as if this was the most normal situation in the world.
Instead of jumping out or panicking, the rabbit calmly asked her a question.
“This is a Westinghouse refrigerator, isn’t it?”
The woman, still stunned, nodded slowly.
“Yes… yes it is.”
The rabbit leaned back against the butter tray like it was sitting on a couch and said very casually,
“Well… I’m westing.”
The woman stared at him for a moment, trying to process what she had just heard.
“You’re… what?”
“Westing,” the rabbit repeated proudly.
The lady rubbed her forehead. “I don’t understand.”
The rabbit sighed like she was the slow one in the conversation.
“You know… West-ing… in the Westinghouse!”
She shook her head. “That’s not how refrigerators work!”
The rabbit shrugged. “Look, lady, the box says Westinghouse. If people can park on a driveway and drive on a parkway, I can certainly west in a Westinghouse.”
The woman stood there in silence for a few seconds.
Finally she closed the refrigerator door slowly and muttered to herself,
“Next time… I’m checking the expiration date on the milk first.”