It was a fine afternoon for a leisure canoe ride. We suited the children in life jackets, grabbed the paddles and set off.
I was admiring my Opi Dutch Tulip pedicure when disaster struck.
A tree frog landed on my foot.
Knowing that I did not want to upset the girls, tip the canoe or pass on a fear of amphibians, I willed myself to remain calm. The feeling of the slimy frog on my skin was beyond my tolerance level. I screamed out "GO AWAY! GET THE HELL OFF OF ME!"
My husband piped up from the rear, "I can't do anything for you."
In a disgusted tone I lashed back, "Not you. The frog!"
Unfortunately I am not fluent in the language of frogs or maybe he was attracted to my Dutch Tulip toes. The canoe ride was abruptly called off. We headed for the shore.
Colin did damage control showing the girls not to be afraid of the little froggy. Strawberry asked, "Mommy do you think he's ug-gah lee?"
No sweetie. Frogs are our friends.