Some days, you wake up to find that the frog your kids and their friends caught and subsequently lost in the house last night has been found.
“I’m really sorry I let go of the frog in the house, Miss Heather,” Kaylee said. No problem, I told her. This is not the first time a small animal has been lost around here.
So there was the newly relocated frog, glaring at me over the top of one of my kitchen containers, right there on my living room floor. He was tied to a string this time, and the string was tied to a softball. You know, so he couldn’t get away again.
I made them untie and release their prisoner. He’s probably suffered enough for one frog lifetime. Besides, he kept trying to leap at me and being snapped back like a rabid dog reaching the end of its chain. There wasn’t enough coffee in my house for that this morning.