Someday my prince will hop away
There I was, casually pulling weeds from the cucumbers the other day when I happened to glance over at the strawberry patch. What I saw there terrified me. It ripped a scream from my throat. I started to run and actually made it half way across the yard yelling and flailing my arms before I grabbed myself by the shoulders and got myself a grip. I mean, really, what kind of message would this send to the kids? This was no way to behave if I expect them to learn to live in peace and harmony and with respect for all critters great and small and slippery and warty.
Still, I freaked out. Just look at this monster:
Yeah, yeah, it’s just a frog. Or a toad. Whatever. What this picture does not show is the enormity of this creature. He was huge. Like a dingy-green bug-eyed Prius. And he just sat there like he owned the place. Clearly, a prince. Once my heart stopped racing and I felt appropriately embarrassed for screeching like a banshee all by myself in the yard, I returned to the garden to have a chat with my nemesis, who despite the ear piercing activities around him had not moved an amphibian muscle. There he sat.
Sir Hops for Naught and I discussed his squatting without permission. I suggested he move along, that this garden was taken, that this princess was done kissing frogs, that I certainly could not promise him peace and tranquility given my squeamish response to his species. Why did I run, Sir Hops needed to know. He asked nothing of me (yeah right, nothing but a puck-a-roo to transform him back to royal glamor. I wasn’t born yesterday Froggie.) I need not be concerned he’d bite, he assured me, and clearly he wasn’t the type to give chase. So what was my problem?
My problem was this: A very real fear of the noise that would be made when I accidentally stepped on him with my flip flops. The squirmy squishy awful sound of Sir Hops under my exposed foot. To say nothing of the danger to me if I slipped on the slimy guy and landed face down in puddle of mashed frog.
Maybe I’m being rash. Maybe he comes in peace. Maybe he’s just looking for a place to rest his weary self. Many of our backyard buddies seem overly tired this year. Like Squiggy, our normally frenetic friend, who just need some chillin’ time, you know, squirrel-style.
Or maybe Sir Hops For Naught is here in response to Evil Bunny, Muncher of Garden Greens that Do Not Belong to Him.
He may look like a cute bunny but DO NOT BE FOOLED. That’s no ordinary rabbit. This ballsy bunny fears nothing. He marches right down to the garden like he owns the place and happily munches away. Screaming children with flailing arms and a garden hose spritzer set to high are futile against his power. He is a bad bad bunny and I hope he steps on a squishy frog and flounders in the slime. Just don’t tell my children that I said so.
7 Replies to “Someday my prince will hop away”
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If only the kids were around like the time you screamed when you saw a snake. Acadia couldn’t stop talking about Mommy screaming for many many months.
That looks like one big ass frog.
I would never have returned to the garden. You are brave woman.
That is the reason I don’t have a garden or a compost.I’m afraid of unwelcomed guests!
Clearly you did not recognize Jabba when you saw him. He does sit like that, but he also could have eaten you. Beware…..G-P M
It’s so cool that Dave can disguise his prince-self as a frog for a prank. But seriously, Garon found some stuff at McGukins that will keep the bunnies out of your garden.
Garden frogs are good. They eat bad bugs and do not touch the produce (unlike the bunnies and deer).
I would stay far away from the frog too. Great post!