Wednesday we thought our cottage was on fire. I wrote about that in yesterday's post. But the week wasn't done with us yet.
Thursday morning, as I'm in the shower about to reach for my washcloth that's hanging over the shower rail, I realize that a frog is in the wash cloth, watching me. I'm not afraid of frogs, but I thought we had a chance of getting it outside. I called for my spouse to come help, and as he tried to remove the washcloth and the frog, the frog jumped away (happily, away from the shower). We couldn't find him in the house. Happily, we're not afraid of frogs, and he's not likely to get into our food, the way a rodent would.
This morning, I heard a giant thump, and I saw the frog in the living room. It was dark, and I didn't have many lights on, so I couldn't get great pictures:
I tried to show him to the back door, but he was always a few jumps away from me. Finally, he made his way to the bathroom:
I didn't think to close the door. I was hoping he'd hop back out, and once again, I could try to show him to a door.
My spouse got up surprisingly early, and I told him that I had last seen the frog in the bathroom. He said, "And you didn't shut the door?" Nope.
My spouse went into the bathroom. The frog was still there, so he shut the door. I expected to hear thumping and crashing, but instead, my spouse came out with his hands cupped. I opened the back door, and my spouse took the frog into the back yard. The frog immediately sounded much happier.
My spouse has wrangled many animals (mainly bugs and the occasional rodent) in our house, but never a frog. Who knew he had these talents?
I am grateful that he got the frog outside. I am grateful that these are the types of housing issues we have. It could be much worse.
Now, back to monitoring the storm to our south. Here's hoping our homeowner luck holds.