Frog and the Female Warrior Wannabe

#firstworldproblems #whining #lostinmiddleclassamerica

There was a frog in my hot tub.  Not so much in, as on the edge; but still, I know you are gasping right now at the obvious severity of this situation. I gasped too; my leg half in, balanced like a pelican and frozen in time as my eyes met the frog's.  More accurately, my gasp was a loud gulping mew.  After a sort of hop dance flop, I was out of the hot tub. The frog just stared, holding his ground, the clear victor in this first round of stand off with female human.

I blinked as I made a tally of who was home that would be willing to remove the frog for me.  Husband? Nope.  Daughter? Home, but no more comfy with amphibious creatures than me.  Daughters boyfriend? Nope.  Cats?  LOL. Yeah. Right. My big voracious hunters had grown into fussy old nappers. No.  There was no assistance. Sigh.

I reached for the green net that I had moved to the hot tub's edge for removing debris. Frog shifted.  I braced for my battle advance, moving the net over the frog.  He slipped into the hot, chlorinated water and immediately hopped out nearby.  I smiled and heard myself utter out loud "See dumb ass frog, You don't want to swim in this water."  Frog blinked but remained steadfast on the hot tub edge.

Despite my fears, I knew I had the upper hand (literally).  A few more attempts, a few more frog baths, and Frog was finally willing to go for a net ride to the back tall grass. I held the net out in front of me as if it was radioactive waste. I was vigilant for any leaps towards me.  My heart was racing and I didn't dare breathe along this dangerous quest.  At the tall grass, I didn't so much release Frog as drop the net and run away.  Oh so Brave! the valiant woman warrior!  The earth connected, nature loving goddess...

My husband would have taken Frog another fifty feet to the stream; but I was terrified and barefoot. Besides Frog was a frog. How fast could it move? Wouldn't it forget all about the warm steamy place under the plastic ledge-like cover where it could be safe and cozy?

Of course, the next day, Frog was back.  But this time I had company; the daughter's boyfriend picked it up in his hands and carried it to the stream.  Like it was a puppy. Like it was not a gross, nasty, terrifying chunk of leaping, croaking frog flesh...

I slipped into the frogless hot tub, took a good look around just to be safe, and finally closed my eyes dreaming of my fearless nature loving warrior escapades...
in some fantasy place...
where frogs do not exist.