The Frog

Sometimes while reading other blogs here on WordPress, I am reminded of things that I should have written about a long time ago. Yesterday I read a post about a woman who likes to save small frogs from her pool. If I can find the post again, I’ll link it. But her post reminded me of my own story, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never mentioned it. Apologies if I have!

Set the scene; September 2012. I was at Styrr’s house. (I should also really make a comprehensible list of the people in my life, according to their nicknames, and their importance… Hahahaha. I’m lazy.) At some point during the night, way back then, I had been sitting on his couch watching tv. Styrr had taken his dogs outside, and upon returning inside got my attention. “Hey, catch!”

Without hesitation, I turned my head to look at him and held my hands out. It would have been a perfect catch too, except all of a sudden I had panicked. There was no telling what he was throwing my way, and since he had just been outside, that increased the odds of it being something that shouldn’t be touched. The object skimmed over my fingers and bounced on the floor. “What is it?” I feared the worse, that maybe it was some gross-boy-humor and he’d thrown a lovely dog shit at me. However, the potential piece of crap sat up, turned away from me, and looked a little stunned.

It was a small frog, so of course the next sound out of my mouth was a shriek of delight. I scooped it up from the floor, looked at it, and suddenly got angry. “WHY THE HELL would you throw a frog at me??”

“I thought you’d freak out. It kinda worked.” He smirked.

We spent the greater part of the following hour playing with it, fighting over who got to hold it, and eventually letting it go outside in the flowers.