came for a kiss
Part II
But the incident with the frog was taking too long already and Abbey had class to attend in the next few hours so she had to retire and leave Clyde and I to our own devices.
By this time, the frog had moved to the darker part of the house – our patio. And I was longing to go to sleep as well.
“Can’t we just go to sleep, Clyde?” I said. It was nearly three in the morning.
“No, I can’t sleep,” she said. “It'll jump all over our things.”
“No, it won’t.”
“Yes, it will. I’ll stay here and catch the frog by myself if I have to.” My, how the frog bothered Clyde.
Nonetheless, though we didn’t know it, we had come to the last stand. Presently, the frog was in the middle of demonstrating its fine acrobatic skills as it moved up the wall again and tried sticking to the ceiling. Clyde and I were at the ready. It had fallen to the floor several times already and the next time it were to fall –
Plop!
Clyde, with admirable courage and newfound sense of action, descended on the frog with the shoebox that had a small hole to the side. She had caught it! She frantically signaled and called to me to get something heavy to keep the box in place.
However, in my excitement, I couldn’t seem to get at anything that would do and in the very short interval of time that elapsed, the frog seemed to have seen the light shining through to it inside the box. Clyde and I watched almost helplessly as the frog first poked its head through the hole, then its body followed, until finally it had slithered through and was on the loose again.
Undaunted, the frog resumed its conquest of the ceiling, working its way from the ground up. This time, it got to a far corner in our patio where a rain gutter wound through and there was a small space there, a gap, between this piece of piping and the ceiling. It was just enough for a really tiny frog. There, it perched.
On the other hand, push had already come to a shove for Clyde and now she banged on the tubing with renewed force, making it vibrate and making the frog fall as well. After the numerous frustrations, her sharpened sense of determination had given way to her invention of a foolproof implement whereby she taped a holeless bucket to one end of a flat metal rod. With this, she came at the fallen frog a second time, and she was infinitely successful. Three cheers for Clyde. She had finally, finally caught the frog.
All that was left were the finishing touches. The ground where the frog was trapped was uneven in some places so I had to scotch tape several parts of the bucket to the ground while Clyde held up the flashlight and peered at her nemesis through the transparent plastic.
We retrieved heavy, thick unused textbooks and piled them one on top of the other over the bucket to hold it in place.
And finally, finally, Clyde and I retreated from our field of battle and went upstairs and went to sleep.
Whew. That was quite a nightmare we had over a frog.
*happened sometime August or September 2011
But the incident with the frog was taking too long already and Abbey had class to attend in the next few hours so she had to retire and leave Clyde and I to our own devices.
By this time, the frog had moved to the darker part of the house – our patio. And I was longing to go to sleep as well.
“Can’t we just go to sleep, Clyde?” I said. It was nearly three in the morning.
“No, I can’t sleep,” she said. “It'll jump all over our things.”
“No, it won’t.”
“Yes, it will. I’ll stay here and catch the frog by myself if I have to.” My, how the frog bothered Clyde.
Nonetheless, though we didn’t know it, we had come to the last stand. Presently, the frog was in the middle of demonstrating its fine acrobatic skills as it moved up the wall again and tried sticking to the ceiling. Clyde and I were at the ready. It had fallen to the floor several times already and the next time it were to fall –
Plop!
Clyde, with admirable courage and newfound sense of action, descended on the frog with the shoebox that had a small hole to the side. She had caught it! She frantically signaled and called to me to get something heavy to keep the box in place.
However, in my excitement, I couldn’t seem to get at anything that would do and in the very short interval of time that elapsed, the frog seemed to have seen the light shining through to it inside the box. Clyde and I watched almost helplessly as the frog first poked its head through the hole, then its body followed, until finally it had slithered through and was on the loose again.
Undaunted, the frog resumed its conquest of the ceiling, working its way from the ground up. This time, it got to a far corner in our patio where a rain gutter wound through and there was a small space there, a gap, between this piece of piping and the ceiling. It was just enough for a really tiny frog. There, it perched.
On the other hand, push had already come to a shove for Clyde and now she banged on the tubing with renewed force, making it vibrate and making the frog fall as well. After the numerous frustrations, her sharpened sense of determination had given way to her invention of a foolproof implement whereby she taped a holeless bucket to one end of a flat metal rod. With this, she came at the fallen frog a second time, and she was infinitely successful. Three cheers for Clyde. She had finally, finally caught the frog.
All that was left were the finishing touches. The ground where the frog was trapped was uneven in some places so I had to scotch tape several parts of the bucket to the ground while Clyde held up the flashlight and peered at her nemesis through the transparent plastic.
We retrieved heavy, thick unused textbooks and piled them one on top of the other over the bucket to hold it in place.
And finally, finally, Clyde and I retreated from our field of battle and went upstairs and went to sleep.
Whew. That was quite a nightmare we had over a frog.
*happened sometime August or September 2011
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