Ailing Summertime

I have a frog in my bathroom.

Now, before you think that's code for some kinky thing (Athena the goddess of wisdom is also a pervert, so you have to set this stuff straight) the frog is real--it's on death's door--but it's a real, sorta-live, albino African frog named Summertime.

So why is it in my bathroom? It's in a little sick frog bowl, the top covered with plastic wrap with a few holes in it because the thing was in the fish tank and the goldfish (a.k.a. the fin pigs) were attacking it. So we took it out so it could die in peace.

Now, to make matters worse, Summertime the frog is owned by my five year old daughter. Most children, you could sneak off to the pet store and replace it with a healthier frog and say, "Look! He's feeling better!" and then have a party and eat some chocolate cake. This is not the sort of child you can do that with because if I got caught, all hell would break loose, and I'd rather be attacked by killer bees.

A little background to make you believe. First, St. Peter or someone behind the pearly gates saw that this was to be my last child and said, "Bring me the Special Soul." And thus, my child was born. Don't believe me? Read on:

1) at 20 mos, tossed her clothes at me and proclaimed, "I am NOT getting dressed, God dammit!" Mind you, all spoken in perfect, crystal clear English.
2) At 2 years she was restricted from watching 'Shrek' because she called her brother an Ass for having a tantrum. And yes, when I questioned her, she knew exactly what she was calling him. At 2 she also gained an imaginary friend named Sunny and an imaginary teacher named Miss Daisy, who is also the leader of the Girl Scouts (all 150 of them) that meet in my back yard. Oh, and there's the imaginary 'bad girl' named Paynie. I had to talk to her imaginary mother about the foul language Paynie uses on the bus to and from Girl Scouts.
3) After the first day of nursery school she put her hands on her hips and demanded, "Why didn't you tell me we had upper case AND lower case letters in the alphabet????" I know, I'm a horrid mother.
4) When I told her she couldn't marry her brother, she informed me she had called God on the phone and he said she could marry him if she wanted to, so there. How can we argue with that logic?

She has some great points, too, like a love of sweeping the kitchen floor. She's also cute as the dickens, which is God's way of keeping her safe. How can you torture something so danged CUTE?

So, the point is, Summertime needs to get well enough so he can go back into the big tank and terrorize the fin pigs. I'll keep you all posted. I'm sure you're hopping with anticipation to know what happens to the frog in my bathroom.

Stay tuned!