One Toad, Two Toad, Red Toad, Dead Toad…

Every morning, before the rooster crows…er…before my coffee is brewed, my youngest son NEEDS to go and check the pool for toads.
It’s his “thing”.
He has a really strong love for all things green and warty. I’m a little concerned about the type of girl he is going to end up with but…it’s still too early to worry, he’s not even 5.
All summer long, he would go out to the pool, do a search and rescue and airlift any needy toads out of the pool and filter.
All. Summer. Long.
And, all summer long, we’d put these little rescued baby toads into a shoebox.
And all summer long, my little Go Diego Go would take his rescued toads to camp where his very sickened…er…excited counselor would take the box with the toad, along with a bunch of very excited preschool campers, and let the toad go “into the wild” by the preschool.
All. Summer. Long.
And…
Into the Fall.
But his counselor, who is now his teacher…she said NO MORE!
That doesn’t stop my little toad hunter. Oh no.
He still, every morning…and after school…goes and does his search and rescue.
And he NEVER comes back empty handed. Think back to my old blog…and the pictures of how many tadpoles hatched inside my pool…which explains why so many toad live in the neighborhood…and find their way to the place they were born.
I have a point to this story, by the way…
So today. After school. Before snack. Before playing with his action figures…
He went to check on the amphibian situation in the pool.
And of course, he found a young one.
It was so cute. And green. And lumpy. *shudder* Actually, they don’t bother me. Not that much. Unless they are brought into my house and get loose. Then, I have a slight problem with them…
But, this isn’t about me…
As I was saying…
He caught this cute little kermit. And placed it into a box. Which, he put on the kitchen table.
Then, he ate his snack. With the toad, in a box, on the kitchen table.
Ha…bet you think I’m going to tell you the toad got out of the box. NOPE!!
My son wanted to show his beloved toad to our neighbors teen-aged son. And then, he was planning on letting the toad go…just in case his mommy was missing him (I wonder where he got that idea)
He ran out of the door. Carrying the toad…in his bare hands. Without the box. Towards the neighbors house, directly next door.
All of a sudden, I hear a shriek. And then, a heartbreaking sob.
I went running out to see what my baby was crying about.
He was standing in-between our house and the neighbors house, holding a rigid frog…who had clearly croaked (bwahahahahaha)er…
He was sobbing.
“Mommy,” he cried “I told the froggy to stop moving. And then…he diiiiiiiiidddddd”
So, I took the clearly deceased little critter out of my broken-heart-ed son’s hands.
And…I place the toad, which seemed to have had an early onset of rigor mortis…very strange…and I place it into the neighbors garden or impatiens.
Then, I took my son by the hand and walked towards our house…to de-wartize…with heavy duty anti-bacterial soap.
He was still sobbing. Piteously. Like his heart had been ripped from his chest.
So we decided to go back and check on this toad. Maybe, perhaps…give it a proper burial.
And when we took the short walk to the neighbors garden…and looked at the EXACT place we had left it…
the toad was GONE! Well…not gone EXACTLY…
it was hiding.
But…very much alive.
And staring at us smugly.
Laughing.
As it hopped away to its mommy…
But my son. He was so relieved. Because, he thought that, somehow, he had killed this toad. He thought it died because he told it to stop moving.
Darn…I was hoping that, perhaps, this would have turned him off from toads.
But NO…
he’s already talking about his next search and rescue mission in the morning…before my coffee…when I’m super crabby.
I can’t wait for winter. That is 6 toad free months.
Bring it on, Mother Nature. I am SOOOOO ready for you!!

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