We pulled into the driveway, parked the car and pulled out all our duffel bags and children from our travels. We pushed past the small mound of mail to be looked at later and dumped the bags in the middle of the living room. Only because that is all we had the strength to do.
We began touring the house with the children all proclaiming their rooms to be "so great" and they "missed them so". The big daddy and I soooo tired from our long travels and no sleep on a red eye flight and well, you know the story, sat down on the couch and sighed. Home at last.
A bit later there was some flurry around the duffel bags and a few crucial things were pulled out. Wet suits, a pair of shoes, not much really. Then, we began looking through the mail as to further procrastinate the unpacking. Ten minutes later our three year old walked up to me lying on the couch and said, "there's a frog in the kitchen."
I may have mumbled "uh-huh, okay..." keeping my eyes closed.
He said it again, "Mama there's a frog in the kitchen".
My eyes flew open and I said, "what?" sensing now that something was amiss.
He said again, eyes fixed toward the floor, very matter of fact, "there's...a...frog...in...the...kitchen".
In seconds all five of us were on our feet hurling toward the kitchen.
Now I ask you...have any of you EVER had a frog in your kitchen?
After all the excitement of catching him, chasing him (I'm assuming it was a him for lack of better frog/toad knowledge) and everyone giggling and screaming and him jolly and jumping everywhere it was the big daddy who finally scooped him up and shuffled him outside much to the protests of my children.
Shaking our heads, smiles on our faces we went back to resting, mail sorting, etc.
Every two minutes I kept saying out loud "How did that frog get inside?" I thought maybe the children had left the door open, or taken something outside and brought it inside. No one.
Finally on about the twelfth time of me saying this the big daddy slowly sat up and said, "I pulled out the shoes."
Now it was quite some time before we had this epiphany but you have to understand how tired we were. "What?" I said.
"I pulled out our guys tennis shoes. Out of the duffel bag".
These very same tennis shoes had been sitting out on the porch for the whole of our vacation. Tennis shoes at the beach? Exactly! The child had been in flip flops since arrival.
When we left we tucked the shoes from the porch into a plastic bag with another pair of wet shoes and tucked them in a duffel. My duffel if were being exact.
This was the bag taken from the duffel to remove the wet shoes not forty minutes earlier. And, there it sat about ten feet from the discovery of said "frog".
So not only was there a frog in our house but this frog had traveled thousands of miles over an ocean having gone through security, agriculture check and still made it to our house living, breathing and croaking.
Can you believe that??!!!??
I still can't.
The children immediately raced outside to find the frog. Flashlights, neighbors, down on hands and knees looking for over thirty minutes to no avail.
So, as funny as we thought this was we immediately realized that setting an island frog free in the mountains may not have been the smartest of moves. Insert again how tired we were that it took so long to figure this out.
So what else is a girl to do but call animal control and make sure that some serious frog epidemic isn't going to harm anything in the area/people/the frogs that we have here in the mountains? That's the other thing, I don't even know the types of frogs that live here nor do I know if they would be friendly to a visiting islander. I would hope that they would but now I was getting concerned for our little friend.
Animal control thought our call was a joke. They have yet to call us back.
There's a frog in our front yard who crossed an ocean to get here through pain of x-ray and stinky tennis shoes and all day I wondered....
Should I start knitting this poor guy a sweater because he won't be used to winter of this sort. Not that it would do any good as I can't find him anyway. I can hear him happily croaking as of last night when I watered the yard but whenever I got too close he became very quiet. Maybe a bit suspicious that we would throw him into another pair of shoes, I assume...
I suppose it gives light to the old joke of why did the chicken cross the road...only here its why did the frog cross an ocean, well to see what it was like to live in the mountains of course.
That is all.
Hope you have a delicious, delightful weekend with family and friends. I'll see you back here on Tuesday with some knitting fresh off the needles.
***edited*** it seems that Fall brought with it a round of colds and coughs after the weekend....I will be back soon, I promise, with knitting fresh off the needles...Thursday? I hope.