I have irrational fears of insects, reptiles, and amphibians. So tonight when I went out to water the geraniums on the front porch and didn't see the gigantic bullfrog perched on our welcome mat until I stepped over it, I freaked out in epic proportions. JD was at work and my cellphone was safely inside the house (where I should have been), so there was no calling for help. I did look around at my neighbors' porch lights to see if anyone was home to help me, you know, shoo away a bullfrog, but no such luck. My block was dark and empty, much like the bullfrog's endeavors tonight.
I panicked. Beatrice was inside asleep and I was outside on the sidewalk. Nothing between me and the comforts of the interior of our home except for one gigantic, menacing, evil frog that would not budge. I very quietly called for help, aloud. I knew how stupid I looked, but my biggest fear other than it touching me was that when I opened the door to go inside, the frog would follow me. Then I would have to sleep in the car. Or call the police. Because there is no way I am sleeping/living in a house that is frog infested. And everyone knows that once a bullfrog pitches tent in your house, the snakes and zombies follow.
I threw a few rocks at it in hopes it would hop away, but it didn't move AT ALL. And calm down, the rocks were tiny, little things that never hit it. I don't wish harm on frogs, just that they never existed. After about 10 minutes outside in a sheer panic, I mustered up enough courage to hop over it into the house. He had the same idea because he hopped away as I lunged for the door. I synchronized hopped with a frog, awesome.
I am glad to report that I am safely inside (never to go outside again) and that after careful inspection, our house is frog-free. I do however have an eternal case of the heeby jeebies. And those poor geraniums are going to die because I am never watering them again.
Rest in peace, pink pretties.