Agog with frogs

For a brief moment I forgot that I had written anything in May and I was really excited because my first post of April was about Alexander finding a skink in his pants, but I already did a post in May, so this is my second post. Fortuitously, the skink-in-his-pants post was also my second post in April (apparently I don't remember anything anymore). 

I hate to see what June brings because...

I had only recently finished my run (and then had gotten distracted by a bunch of primary music stuff because Miriam finished making the medley I'd asked her to make and then I needed to finish up a slideshow for one of my songs...) and I was just about to shower when I got a text message from Andrew, telling me that a frog just fell on him.

So I rushed back downstairs to rescue him because he does not like frogs. He'd already run to the kitchen to grab a Tupperware container, but frogs aren't bugs...and that little guy was pushing the container around in his desperate attempts at escape. I helped move him onto a piece of paper and from there onto a book, thus effectively trapping him.

I thought the little froggy and Andrew were so cute with their little hands pressed up against the walls of the container:

Neither one seemed too fond of the other. But now the frog is back outside and Andrew is safe in his office (maybe).

Yesterday the kids—specifically Benjamin—found a frog outside. He'd been helping me weed the garden when he heard a croaking sound. 

"That's a cricket," he said.

"That's a frog," I disagreed.

"Pretty sure it's a cricket."

"Pretty sure it's a frog."

"Mom," he said. "I've heard that sound before and we've hunted around and found crickets."

"Benjamin," I said. "I've heard that sound before and we've hunted around and found frogs."

"It's a cricket."

"Frog."

"Cricket."

"Frog."

"Cricket."

"Frog," I said with finality. "And not only is it a frog—it's a Cope's Gray Treefrog."

"Do you see this frog?"

"No. Do you see a cricket?"

"No."

"Okay, well...I'm willing to bet a million dollars that it's a Cope's Gray Treefrog."

"Fine," he said, hopping off the garden wall to look for the frog. "It's coming from over here."

He marched over to the garden bench and lifted one of the cushions (you'd be surprised to know how many critters we scare out from under those cushions), and then let it and his arms droop to his sides.

"It's a frog," he said, hanging his head.

"Hot dog!" I said (because I don't have a million dollars).

Here's Benjamin with his frog-for-the-night:

And here he is helping Phoebe and Alexander with some gentle exploration:

All the kids are much less afraid of frogs than their daddy is. Phoebe is only being shy here because the frog tried to give her a kiss—it seriously jumped straight into her mouth, basically, but I missed that and got this picture of Benjamin catching it on the rebound:

And here's Phoebe excitedly getting ready to hold the frog:

And here's the frog's smile, which Benjamin felt was very important to capture (it was probably busy plotting its little breaking-and-entering prank on Andrew):

Here's the frog resting on Phoebe's head:

And here she is having one last turn holding the froggy:

She always wants one last turn, and one last turn, and one last turn with every animal. It took her about ten "one last pet" before I could tear her away from the neighbour's puppy at dinnertime!

Benjamin was sure to release the frog back into the wild before too long. He's a little sensitive about keeping things from nature in captivity too long (which is a good sensitivity to have). He released this little guy way up by the garden, so I don't know if it's the same frog that—some way or another—made it into Andrew's office, but that would be kind of funny if it were the case!