I have an interesting story to share, and includes plenty of oversharing (because, that’s my jam):
Around Friday last week I noticed a little tree frog stuck to our front door window. I thought it was kind of neat and left him be to chill out on the cool glass. When I went out later that day, he was gone.
On Saturday morning, I opened the door to let the dogs out and there was the frog again. When I went out later that day, he was no where to be seen.
On Sunday morning, I opened the door to let the dogs out and didn’t see the frog. Once the dogs were back in (and back in their beds) I went to the bathroom to pee. Just as I was sitting down on the toilet, movement caught the corner of my eye. (Good thing I was already on the toilet, because I’m pretty sure I would have peed myself if I wasn’t). Imagine my shock when I realized it was a little frog and he jumped right towards me. I screamed (because, it’s 5 in the morning and I wasn’t expecting anything to jump at me). I also want to take a moment to point out that I never scream, so you would think my scream might startle the four other beings in my house (one husband, three dogs). But no…they couldn’t even be bothered to wake up, let alone come rescue me. Thank goodness it wasn’t a serial killer or I wouldn’t be here to tell this story!
I nagged Mr. Big until he got up and relocated the tree frog to a tree outside (in his underwear, with his eyes still closed…I’m not even sure if he was awake or just sleep walking).
On Monday morning, I went to let the dogs out and there was Mr. Tree frog again, hanging out on the window. I wasn’t careful enough and he fell down onto the floor and then hopped off down the hallway. I tried to catch him but I am not a “things-that-move-and-jump-unpredictably-and-might-be-slimy” kinda girl so after much nagging, Mr. Big came (in his undies, eyes closed, still sleeping) and put him back on the tree outside.
On Tuesday night (last night), Mr. Big came home from a late night fire call to the tree frog on his way across the deck. He grabbed him, carried him to a tree that is across the yard and “explained” to him that he is a tree frog, and should live in a tree. Our door is not a tree. Apparently, tree frogs don’t have ears or if they do, they don’t speak English because this morning (6ish hours after Mr. Big read him his rights) I found the tree frog, once again, stuck to our window.
I’ve realized – for whatever reason – he thinks our door is his home. And to be honest, he’s got grit: we relocated him every day for like 4 days and he continued to come back. I kind of think he’s earned his right to stick to our window. (I’d just prefer him not in the house, because, you know…creepy crawlies/jumpies aren’t my thing.) So now we have a pet tree frog who lives on our front door. His name is Sebastian (because, he needs a name and I am a firm believer in full names that can be used for sophisticated events like dinner parties). (He’s like a wal.mart greeter, but not for wal.mart, not old (or, he doesn’t have grey hair) and not really that friendly…so probably not really like a walm.art greeter at all…)
He likes long hops through grass, moonlight serenades and cool glass windows to press his little sticky feet to. Welcome to the family, Sebastian.
P.S: My dogs will chase a leaf/squirrel/frog/plastic bag/thing that isn’t really there across the yard, barking and trying to eat it. But when there is a living, breathing creature – who shouldn’t be there – in my house???
“You’ve got that, right? We’re pretty busy….”
I need new guard dogs…perhaps guardier, doggier and less free-loadery ones.
P.P.S: Mr. Big, while he did dispose of the frog twice, only did so at my incessant nagging and I’m pretty sure he didn’t even wake up for it so I’m not sure he gets any points. What is the point in having a big, strong firefighter hubby if, in an emergency*, he reacts by continuing to snore? His defense was “that’s why we have dogs, your beef is obviously with the dogs, and not me…because they’re the ones not doing their jobs and being free loaders.” Touche, Mr. Big, touche.
P.P.P.S: I need to take a self defense course because CLEARLY I’m on my own.
P.P.P.P.S: I am not actually afraid of frogs…I just don’t like things that sneak up on you, and do unpredictable things like jump at your face with ninja stars in their
hands paws hooves feet (?) (what are their feet called??). OK, maybe I made up the ninja stars bit…
*Totally know this was NOT an emergency, and Mr. Big is still my hero even if he didn’t leap from bed, armed and at the ready, to save his damsel in distress from a teeny, tiny, little tree frog who *literally* cannot hurt me.