No, this is not a post about the Disney movie, this is a post about my completely irrational fear of frogs. Yes, I know frogs are harmless, they have no teeth, they’re good for the environment. Well you know what? They are not good for my poor heart!
I don’t know where this fear started, it might be the first time I stepped on a frog while barefoot, or the fact that while camping it chose to jump in my cup or the day I saw a frog lay eggs in a pool and kids playing with it, thinking it was a string, boy did I have a good vomit. I’ve seen them do things, that should not be possible and I’m pretty sure they’re out to get me.
It all started not so long ago, actually it all happened last night. It was a typical night, I just finished making dinner and was waiting for Carl to come home from work, it was a late working day for him. I sat on the couch and decided to listen to a little Jason Mraz, as I played the song I heard a noise, I turned it a little softer and got up and right in the corner of the room, I was looking my biggest fear straight in its weird eyes. I started sweating, my heart racing and literally frozen in one spot not wanting to break eye contact with this jumping demon, I tried to put the song softer, but instead made it louder. The frog started hopping towards me, suddenly able to move I ran to the bedroom and barricaded myself in.
This is when I really started going crazy blaming Jason Mraz for making frog like music and I will be sending him a strongly worded email about my new found hatred for him. The craziness did not stop I started googling ways to get rid of frogs and realized these people are crazy! I also started messaging Carl telling him I’m in the room and he needs to whack this frog, but this frog, this frog was a sketchy fellow, he made me look like a crazy person, because when Carl did the frog hunt, he was no where to be found….
I even chucked Belphie who was sleeping on the bed out the door to be a good cat and find the frog, but when you have a fat and lazy cat, you get no results!
You would think that’s the end of this story. I acted like a crazy person and imagined the frog.
You know its going to be a bad morning when your cat poops on the carpet, I might have deserved it, because I did make him get off the bed. It was way worse for Carl, he actually stepped right on that poop and really got it in that carpet, after he cleaned himself up and I closed the door after him, the frog was back jumping around like a crazy thing, I screamed for Carl and I kept telling him,” see I’m not crazy they’re out to get me”!
The moral of the story. I’ve got a crippling fear of frogs and you should all feel bad for Carl.