Most people would say that summer is their favorite season. Warm, sunny days spent at the beach, or pool, or camping, or whatever your vacationing heart desires.
I like those things, too.(well, minus the camping)
What I am not fond of are the creatures that appear in the warm season:
The slithery, creepy crawleys, the bugs, ants and skunks, etcetera.
But worst of all:
Yes, that's right.
I am white-face-making, heart-pounding, knee-knocking terrified of frogs.
You are surely saying to yourself: "That is ridiculous! They are so cute! What about Kermit?"....blah.blah.blah. I've heard it all before.
My fear comes from my mom, and a terrible story from her childhood. I don't blame her for her hatred of the green little slimers...but it was passed along to me, and now each spring I dread hearing them...for I know that means the invasion is imminent.
I have grown accustomed to scooping them out of my pool each morning. With the net extended as FAR as it will go, I walk around the edges peering into the water, knowing, expecting at least one to shoot from under a raft, or one to dart out with those u.g.l.y frogger leggers, trying to escape.
They do not stand a chance. I scoop them out and catapult them with all of my might over the fence. And I do it with shaking fear every time. Every morning. From June to September.
The Frog Wars.
So it was at the end of last summer when after a beautiful day at the beach with my kids. It was the first time I took all of the kids, including a friend for Nick. It was excellent. My mom and dad and sister, and me with my tribe of bandits.
We got home late in the day, and we were all feeling that sweet exhaustion from spending the day by the ocean, in the breezy sunshine, eating food that was bad for us, but oh.so.good.
I was ready for a quiet evening, maybe a glass of wine and a little t.v. before hitting the hay...
After the kids went to bed, I was about to hop in the shower when I heard this flapping noise.
Then I saw a shadow swoop overhead...
A raptor? A pterodactyl?
It was a gigantic moth/locust!(I still don't know how to classify it) but it clearly was in the wrong place...
He knew it.
I knew it.
It was on.
There was no way to get to my pool net, I would have to be clever...I looked around and saw the plunger and one of the kids buckets that they used for tub-time.
Like a Ban chi I lifted the plunger...I wasn't going to kill the darn thing...I was as big as my head! That would have left a mess that even I couldn't clean.
He swooped off, down the dark hallway. I prayed that he would not fly into the kids rooms, as it was their peaceful sleep that would ensure my quiet "me" time...
Prayers unanswered, he flapped right into Nicks room.
Nick was just dozing off, when his crazy mama burst in and threw on the light!
"What are you doing?"
"Quiet. I'm gonna need your help. Theres a moth in here and I need to trap it!" I whispered in hushed desperation.
Then the beast made an appearance and flew right up to the ceiling light.
Nick buried his head under the covers. He was no help. "Tell me when you get it!" I heard his muffled yell...
I carefully stood on the end of Nicks bed, reached up with the bucket and GOT HIM!!
The bucket didn't have a lid...He could fly right out!
I searched the room for the answer.
A FRISBEE!!! YESSS!
After much prompting from me, Nick reluctantly got out of bed to get it for me.
With the end of the plunger I tapped on the end of the bucket until I heard the raptor-saurus plunk into the bottom.
With the swiftness of a warrior I slammed the frisbee on top of the trap and made my way down the pitch black hallway to the kitchen, where I kicked open(well, now thats just being dramatic) opened the back door an tossed the bucket onto the back lawn.
Brushing my hands together in victory, I went up for that shower.
I FINALLY sat down for that long-waited for quiet time.
I glanced over by the front door...Now what WAS THAT?
It looked like a little pile of poop!
Casey was already sleeping, and he NEVER has accidents.
I walked over to get a closer look.
What do YOU think it was?
The terror that I felt at that moment was unlike anything I have ever felt. I nearly passed out.
I could deal with them at a pool-net distance...BUT IN MY HOUSE!!!
I ran around up the other stairs, knowing full well he could hop.hop.hop. up the stairs, into my living room, bedroom...oh.my.GOD!
I grabbed the Swiffer and stood at the top of the stairs. Staring at it. Willing it to self-implode.
"Casey!" I whispered..."Get it! Get it!"
But Casey was dog-snoring already...I was alone in the battle.
I didn't want to startle the little bastard. I didn't want it to move. What the hell was I going to do? Call the cops? Wake up Nick to help? Sh!@.Sh^&.Double Sh%$.
Thankfully, the front door was open, so that I could push the screen door open, if I could reach it...
I grabbed a broom.
Now I was propped by one leg on the stairs, the other in a near split against the wall.
With the broom I pushed the frog toward the door. There was little time! I think I even closed my eyes when, with the Swiffer like a sword in fencing, forced the door open, just long enough to push the frog out with the broom.
The door slammed closed.
The frog sat right there. Looking back at me.
I locked the door.
Another battle won. Another chance for a peaceful moment, literally, out the door.
I slumped into that chair again. Nerves on fire. Heart pounding. I chugged my wine.
I recounted the events to my husband who had been out protecting the city of Augusta.
He is used to these stories now. He laughed a little and told me that the frog was still sitting there when he got home.
Summer is coming again. It makes me a little edgy. Let the battles begin!
And yes, I like Kermit.
Hope this made you smile...
Thanks For Reading!