Croaky and Jerry

Jason and I were on one of our regular night-time walks around our home when to my surprise and excitement, I saw a frog in the swampy water that collects in front of our house. "Jason, we have to catch it. The kids will be so excited! .... will you catch it?" (That water was extra slimy green. Yuck!).

We (he) caught the frog and put him in a jar. It was so cute how the kids reacted to it. Ethan held the jar for a long time and kept saying "Hi, Frog! Hi Frog!" and giggled and then just held it with a very proud look on his face. When McKenzie saw the frog, she named him "Croaky" and talked to him for quite awhile. "Don't be afraid, Croaky" She retrieved a blanket from her playhouse and asked if she could put it over Croaky's jar to keep him cozy at night. Permission was granted and she put it on right away so it would be ready. I warned them that we were going to keep the frog for the day and then let him go home to his family. I had dreams that night of all of us frantically chasing a loose frog throughout our house. "RIBBIT!". When we let him go, the kids were delighted to watch him hop away while they scrambled after him until he made one last leap for the water - and was gone. I was surprised that I was a tinge bit sad to see him go.

Yesterday, my weeding/pruning/mowing plans were thwarted when I saw TWO frogs in the water. If it bothers you that my lawn remains unmowed, well, we were doing more important things - like: "McKenzie, be very quiet. Don't scare him. O.k., we need to make him hop into this box. Careful!" Ethan scooping up water in a mason jar. McKenzie waiting with anticipation. Me crouching down very slowly with a box. Then, "Ah, Missed!" Frog hopping, Ethan jumping, McKenzie squealing, Me hustling over to the other side of the gutter to get closer to the frog. Finally the two frogs were captured in a cooler with gross water. And somehow it didn't make me feel as bad to capture two frogs. Afterall, they each had a friend.

McKenzie and Ethan loved touching them. "They're slimin' me up!" said McKenzie. McKenzie named the new frog Jerry. We went inside for baths and cartoons. Then I looked out the window and saw a frog hopping away on our sidewalk. I ran out to see that both frogs had escaped out of the cooler. I was not about to let them go. We had worked hard to get them. I felt like a 7-year-old boy out there chasing frogs (you know, the kind of boy with touseled hair, dirt-smudged face, and a sling shot hanging out the seat of his pants - O.k., the touseled hair may have been true). Anyway....Frogs are fast and slippery little creatures! I would catch one and it would squeeze through a small opening in my hands and I'd be back on the chase.

We made the frogs a home during McKenzie Time. Now the dilemma: as much as I don't want to be out there hunting down crickets and grosshoppers every day, I also don't want to let the frogs go. What to do.....what to do.

Now, what delight can a 29-year-old woman possibly find in catching frogs, you ask?
*Flashback* My sister, Brooke, leading my three brothers and I on a tadpole hunt (I think we were ages 6, 7, 9, 10, and 11). I don't know how accurate this memory is, but this is how I remembered it as a 6-year-old fully equipped with paper cup in hand. We came to a "Do Not Enter" sign. Well, it wasn't the "Do Not Enter" place where we wanted to be. But, we had to go through the place of "no trespassing" to get to the field on the other side of it. It was especially scary because we had heard that someone would shoot us with rock salt if they saw us enter. We all huddled down next to the sign, ready to make a run for it. I was so afraid that, being the little tag-along in the back, I would get caught at the last minute after everyone else had made it to the field. We ran for our lives, ducking next to vehicles, scanning the area, making a run for it and ducking again until we came to a hole in a chain link fence where we were able to enter the field. We were panting and we were free. Now off to the ditch. We went home with cups full of tadpoles and smiles of satisfaction. Our little treasures were poured into a kiddy pool where we could watch them grow into frogs. They were way cute when they reached the frog-looking stage with tail almost gone, but still so tiny. The whole adventure was worth the risk of meeting face to face with a big burly man and his shotgun.

Oh, and this has nothing to do with frogs, besides that it happened on frog-finding day: "Daddy's Home!!!"