Frog Appeal

Friday morning I sluff off to the bathroom at 5:15 a.m. to wash up and dress for a Spinning class. At the sink, I was my face, brush my teeth, put in my contacts.

I wiggle into my bike shorts and pull a pair of clean socks out of the laundry basket then turn around to find… what? A thin, wet, black blob on the counter top.

Leaning to look, I wonder for a split second… Did I miss? I mean, the toilet is a good three feet away, and a foot lower, but … it is 5:15 a.m.

Naw, couldn’t be, I didn’t “sit” this morning.

The cat? No, he’s too fat to jump up.

I tear off a wad of toilet paper to clean it up. Maybe it’s a weird bug or something. I sniff. Ew, it’s poo all right.

How’d it get there? And when?

I kiss Tony goodbye, mentioning to odd poo find, and fumble in the dark out to the kitchen.

After Spinning, I shower at the gym and go up to church for prayer. When I walk in, Tony gestures to me.

“Guess what I found this morning on the wall behind my dresser?”

“What?”

“A big frog.” He holds up his fist to indicate the size.

“Oh my gosh, you’re kidding! One of the pool (er, water bowl) frogs. How’d it get inside?”

Tony shrugs. “Can you imagine if he’d jumped on you in the middle of the night when you went to the bathroom?”

A picture pops in my head, and I start laughing so hard, I have to bury my face in my jacket so as not to disturb prayer.

I can see it now, screaming and leaping, scaring the wits out of everyone. Jack and Pal probably getting into a fight.

Can you imagine? Tony put the frog outside, and told him to stay out. “We have a cat, you know.” But I think the frog could’ve taken Red, I really do.

Diva NashVegas – Writing and rewriting away on Diva. God is good. Spent most of Friday and this morning reading Lost In NashVegas galleys. Good book.

Peace.