Friday, June 4, 2010

One Little Speckled Frog...

sitting on a speckled log, eating a most delicious fly-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay!

The boys love this song. We sing it all day long. Frogs are pretty much an obsession around here. We sing about them. We search every drop of water in the hopes that we will find one. We pretend to be them.

Ribbit.

So when the hubby found one while helping to dig a trampoline pit (how cool is that) for a friend of ours, he decided without hesitation to bring it home and show the boys.

He put it in an empty planter.

In the sun.

Without water.

For several hours while they napped.

When they awoke, he immediately told them he had a surprise for them outside. They ran with him down stairs, out the back door, and into the back yard where they peered over the side of the planter and saw:

a very, very dead frog.

Did you know that rigormortis could set in in just an hour or so? It can. This poor little speckled frog was stiff as can be.

B even gave the planter a nice shake and a bang on the patio just in case the little guy was just sleeping so soundly he was unable to move (which, in fact, is pretty much what he told the boys the frog was doing).

What's funny is that seeing this dead frog didn't just make their day -- it made their week. They are still talking about the frog that Daddy surprised them with & how it was sleeping & that then it went to live at its new house, a.k.a the trash can.

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