'Tis the Season

A little rain and a 12 degree drop in temperature has made people a little loopy.  It has been hot and steamy around here for awhile, but what else is new?  Now this cooling rain has meant that people want to be outside a little more.  I thought I'd get a break.  Not so lucky.  So this rain has awakened the sleeping lime green devils in my yard and all across the neighborhood.  Little tree frogs have taken over the world.  These little guys, that range from tiny to about an inch long, are everywhere.  It's like one of the seven plagues.  I wouldn't care if I was at all normal about this sort of thing, but in my old age I've developed a fear of frogs.  Okay, just to clarify, I was all about frogs as a kid.  Then, while in high school, I saw a native toad in my German Shepard's food dish.  It took up the whole entire dish.  I was mortified as I had to feed the dog that night.  My father, showing no mercy, stood out there and yelled at me to pick up the bowl and dump the toad out.  The toad barked at me and in very slow motion climbed out of the bowl and attempted to chase me.  It wasn't hard to do as I was frozen to that spot watching the frog come closer to me.  Finally, I screamed refused to ever feed that dog again.  The big toads can still stop me from entering my house if I must cross one in order to do so.

Now, on my own terms I can pick one of the tiny ones up if I must.  At least the tree frogs are sort of cute by comparison, so I can definitely swat them off the car door to get in.  However, when my young ones realized that I wasn't joking about this punctuated dislike for these critters, they decided it would be funny to peg me with them.  They would take turns throwing frogs at me. It wasn't like it was raining frogs.  One would throw one and watch me try to get out of the way while screaming like I was being stabbed.  Then, after the fit of laughter began to settle, another would try his hand.  So, every 90 seconds or so I was dodging a froggy.  I tried to seem upset for the frogs and made a stink about it in a vain attempt to deflect my obvious freak out.  Boy, those kids don't know just how close I came to wetting myself in a sobbing fit of hysteria.  Thank goodness for hubby.  He came out of the shed and after being amused for about five minutes he distracted them long enough for me to run in the house and lock myself into the bathroom for a long hot cleansing shower.  I had to scrub the frog off, even though they never really touched me.  I'm a loon.  I know.  How embarrassing is this story.  What the heck am I thinking?