The Mommy vs. The Frog

Maybe it was a toad, or I should say is a toad. And, I should also say that I am safely in the house and the frog/toad is still outside ... on the porch ... actually right outside the door.

So, here's the story. It begins with ants. Many ants. Ants everywhere. Most harmless, but few that are the mean-o kind. The fire ants. They've invaded my home, my yard. Attacked myself and my son. They are awful and I believe that I've developed a very serious fear of ants, red or otherwise.

Which lead me to spraying this lovely bug killer around the doors and floorboards.

Anyway, it brings us to the frog. Toad.

Aries spent time outside while I did the inside and then was in for a while when the outside was done. So, it was time for the pup to get outside. He dove out the door and I saw this poor frog ... toad, hop sadly across the porch to get away from the scary dog. I did my best to protect the sad little hopper while my doggy did his thing. I brought my furry friend in or started to and noticed the sad hopper coming toward the door rather than away from the door and where I was heading. Hmmm ... I stomped. I clapped. I grabbed a broom. I tapped it in front of the hopper. What did he ... it ... do? It attacked! No, I had to be wrong. So I tapped the broom in front of him again and he ATTACKED IT!

Seriously, I was going to call my father-in-law. Why? I don't know. I threw a bucket at it. Really. A bucket.

I think he's still out there.