Teeny Tiny Toad

I'm sorry. I should've known that by squealing with delight and pointing you out, your morning might get a jolt of terror. I, as a human, was only trying to teach my 4-year-old about nature and the lovely fact that here in our very own backyard we could find a dime-sized frog hopping about. Little did I know that the next 30 minutes of your life would be spent squeezed in and out of a grimy, pudgy little paw, only to be dropped to safety three feet down and then grabbed back up into hand hell. I realize now that you probably wanted desperately to get away from these giagantic looming faces above you, one with a booger river and dirt smeared from eye to chin, one with cherry red cheeks and a twinkle in his eyes. You finally made your gettaway under our deck stairs, much to the dismay of cherry cheeks. I sighed with relief, though, little froggy friend, for I did not need to add frog funeral to my day's to-do list. I'm sure you have quite the story to tell your little frog family and so does my little cherry cheeks. You added an enormous amount of excitement to our day and it's but 10:12am!