The Frog

When I was a little girl, what I really wanted was a frog. I thought that frogs were the most wonderful animals and I can remember trying to create a play space where my frog -- when it came to live with me -- would live. Alas, he never came.

When Andrew was about that same age and Christmas was coming, we were at a loss as to what his main gift should be. He was the kind of kid who would be delighted with almost anything. Our haphazard guess would turn out to be exactly what he wanted! (At 47, that is no longer the case; his taste is very specific.) One afternoon a couple of days before Christmas I was still drawing a blank when Honna and I went to Martin's Aquarium for something one of us needed and we saw a habitat with green frogs who seemed to have suction cups for hands and feet clinging to the glass walls and rolling their eyes around. "For Andrew!" we both exclaimed.

Frogger-Do turned out, of course, to be the hit Christmas present of the year and he lived a pleasant life with us for several years until I just couldn't buy one more weekly "pinky" baby mouse (he needed his calcium, y'know) and he experienced a religious conversion and went to live in the middle school science department of the Quaker school where I was working.

And that was that.

Until about four years or so ago when Himself and I were wandering around the garden supply store and this guy caught my eye. Joe bought him for me and he took up residence on the small wall that supports our lamp post.

And then we noticed that he was moving about. He'd be at one front corner of the wall and the next time we looked, he'd be in the middle of the back edge. Each of us denied having moved him. But still, he got around.

Our block isn't like the one where I grew up, with a bunch of kids who had the run of the neighborhood from morning until dark. Rather, we have a small handful of quiet, well-behaved children whose activities are carefully monitored by their parents. At one corner we have a young couple who have two beautiful daughters who like to take walks in the evenings. One day I came home to find mom and #1 standing on my walk (#2 was in the stroller) and they were talking to the frog. We all introduced ourselves, had a little chat, and went about our respective businesses.

#1, I suspect, has begun kindergarten. And #2 is walking with mom now, rather than riding in the stroller. Time goes by.

This morning Joe went out front to empty Lizzy before breakfast and when he came back he told me, "There's a painted rock next to the frog." What!? And there was. And there is. I saw it right away when I went out. Such a lovely surprise! "Where do you think that came from?" he asked me.

Well, I don't know for sure. But I have a pretty good guess. And it's made me so happy!