Jeremiah was a Bullfrog

Well actually he was a toad, and he was in my car.

Recently after it had rained for a couple of days the girls and I were off to do...um something, and I had sent them down to the car while I talked with their dad for a moment. As we're talking, K comes bursting through the garage door.

"Mom! There's a frog in your car!"

I turned and looked at her, "What?"

"There's a frog in your car."

I looked at C and said, "I guess I'll talk to you later, I need to go see about a frog."

He laughed and I went down stairs. But Sarah, why were you not paniced and flying down the stairs to find out what manner of horrific creature was in your lovely car? Well, it's like this. God knew I couldn't raise boys with out turning them into pansies or wrapping them in bubble wrap, but that I could raise a tomboy just fine. So he gave me girls, once more girly than I know what to do with and the other a ninja princess.

I have been waiting for the day when it was my turn to pull something that was once alive out of a pocket as I do the laundry or to rescue a hapless slimey thing from a place it doesn't belong. You see, as a child my poor mother probably pulled innumerable once alive creatures from my pockets and I know I brought home a frog or two. And K is very much an animal lover and also a I-must-touch-this-icky-thing kind of kid, so it was only a matter of time. I was a bit surprised it took us eight years.

"K how did the frog get in the car?"

"I put him there." Ah.

"K you can't pick up frogs or any other animals. It could have been poisonous."

"But poisonous frogs are bright colored, this one is all brown. And he was by the garage door."

"It doesn't matter, and that's only in the rain forest. In Texas they don't always shout their poison status with bright colors."

I shook my head and opened the door to the back seat. And there Mr. Frog sat happy as can be on the seat belt buckle. With a small sigh, I scooped him up and put him in the palm of my hand. He was not a frog. He was a tiny little mud toad. I looked down at K.

"That's not a frog."

"Yes it is Mommy."

"No it's not."

"What is it?"

"A toad."

"What! How do you know, you only just looked at it."

"Well, I've held a few in my day and learned in school about the differences in frogs and toads." Which I then briefly explained.

"Wow Mommy, you sure know a lot of stuff. What kind of toad is it. Do toads hop like frogs? Can we keep it?"

"A tree or mud toad and some do, and no we can't"

She pouted for a moment and then brightened a bit. "So that means it's not poisonous."

"Not necessarily. It could still be, which is why we'll go wash our hands after we put him in the mud."

In all this petting and handling, the little toad, remained very calm and just sat on my hand. "K you may pet him once more and say good bye."

She did and I walked around our building and bent to put him in a nice patch of mud. I must have moved too fast for him then, because he finally peed on me. I said a couple words I won't repeat here.

"What happened Mommy, did he bite you?"

"No! He peed on me."

This was met with peels of laughter from both girls. We trooped up the stairs, washed our hands and headed back to the car. Once there, the inevitable came.

"Why did he pee on you?"

I started to explain, but once I said the word urine followed by another word she didn't know, acrid, she was off in her own little world. She really didn't want to hear about why frogs pee when they're scared.