One of my favorite fellow bloggers, Jana over at The Meanest Mom, has a post about her family’s recent goldfish funeral. It reminded me of a funny story from my childhood and an old, but still funny, joke.
When we were teens, my brother and I got my younger sisters a pair of goldfish for a present. As they always do, one eventually died. My brother wasn’t around when my Dad flushed the deceased pet. When he got home he asked me what had been done with the fish. I made a flushing motion with my hand and also an appropriate flushing sound-effect.
My brother was totally shocked. “Oh no! He didn’t?”
“What’s the big deal. He just flushed the dead fish down the toilet.”
“Oh. OK. that’s fine.I thought you meant he put it down the garbage disposal!”
I guess my brother should get credit for a vivid imagination. Yuk.
And speaking of dead goldfish, here is an oldie but goodie.
Little Timmy was in the garden filling in a hole when his neighbour peered over the fence. Interested in what the cheeky-faced youngster was up to, he politely asked, “What are you up to there, Tim?”
“My goldfish died,” replied Tim tearfully, without looking up, “and I’ve just buried him.”
The neighbour was concerned, “That’s an awfully big hole for a goldfish, isn’t it?”
Timmy patted down the last heap of earth then replied, “That’s because he’s inside your f_cking cat.”