#226 my own selflessness

Today, I’m thankful for myself.  Because I’m pretty durn proud of the fact that we have a frog in our house right now.

One of my many deep dark secrets is that I am afraid – no petrified – of frogs.  I realize this is a silly fear.  I know they cannot hurt me.  They are tiny gentle creatures.  But my brain still goes MAYDAY when I see one.  My heart rate triples.  Breathing is difficult.  And I fight the urge to Run.

When I was living in North Carolina and teaching there, I was almost always the first teacher to arrive at school each morning.  And the door that I needed to unlock almost always had a large frog guarding the front of it.  And so I would get out of my car, gather my things, and walk to the door…only to turn back around and get back in my car and wait until another teacher got there.  I was that scared.

Well.  I managed to parent three boys for about 5 years without them learning of my little fear.  Mostly this was because I didn’t want them to be afraid of frogs too.  But also this was because I didn’t want them to hone in on my weakness and use it against me. (In other words, I didn’t want to wake up in the tent when we were camping and find something green and croaky on my pillow.)

For his birthday, we got 5 a frog habitat.  And I knew he would love it.  (He did.  I think it was his favorite gift.)  We got back from Mexico and got ready to fill out the form to order the baby tadpole, but it said they wouldn’t ship it until November.  That was very, very sad news for the little kiddo who had said each day we were in Mexico, “Mommy!  We can order my frog as soon as we get back?”

So my brother volunteered to just go fetch him a frog.  And today, he drove three little ones back from my dad’s house in his car.  They ended up hopping all over the SUV while he was driving because he didn’t have a lid on the cup.  But that didn’t bother him.  (It really made me almost pee my pants when he told me about it – but whatever.)

5 set up “Froggy”, as he named him, in his plastic home.  And he and Daddy went to work finding bugs in the yard to feed Froggy.  So far, it appears, he prefers moths and caterpillars over crickets.  Picky, picky.


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