On Friday night I had a visitor while I was taking a shower - a frog. Now don't get me wrong, I like frogs, particularly the little ones. They're cute. When I was a kid I used to collect small frogs and put them in a paper bag to carry them to their new home in my backyard. Afterwards I'd frequently find the frogs swimming in our pool. So I liked frogs back then. Here in Florida we live close to wetlands, so it's Frogs-R-Us at night around here. Just open up the back door at night and their croaking is almost a roar. In fact, it's so loud at night that my dogs are hesitant to go outside when the frogs are singing.
So as I said, I like frogs in general. But I didn't much care for the tiny frog that tried jumping in our bed the other night. Nor did I care for the one who ended up in the shower with me. Now I know my grandson tells me, "Frogs can't hurt you, Nana." So I wasn't worried about getting hurt by that little green/brown frog. However, when the frog landed with a plop in the shower-water at my feet, well, I let out a holler that sent my dogs and husband running. So my husband had to catch the intruder and put him back outside.
This is the third frog visitor in a week. Now I've always loved the story of "The Frog Prince." But I'm too old to be interested in "kissing a frog." I already have my own "Prince Charming" though he's getting a bit gray and worn, I'll stick with the one I've got. Those frogs need to find someone younger and single.
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