I’m living with frogs. No, they weren’t invited. Not quite sure where they are coming from but signs point to my bedroom window being the main spawning point.
Two nights ago, the sixth (or unconfirmed seventh) frog appeared around 2 am when I awoke to see Emmex chewing and drooling all over my pillow. Let me set the scene:
It’s 2 in the morning. I’ve been sleeping, but it’s hot so I raise the sash on the window next to the head of my bed. I have to be up at 5 for work. Then, from nowhere Emmex comes bounding up my bed, attacking whatever he has found and ends up in my window behind a curtain. I’m confused as I usually am after waking at the wrong time. I hear slurpy noises, the kind of slurpy noises that make you want to throw up a bit. I’m scared but I pull back the curtain slowly and Emmex emerges foaming at the mouth. He chewing…something. It’s pitch black and I only have the dimmed light from the screen of my phone to see. I’m afraid to look away because what if he throws up on my bed? Then I’d have to look for kitty puke in the dark and avoid it while getting out of bed to get cleaning supplies. Ew.
He doesn’t throw up. He keeps chewing but now it’s dripping on my bed, my pillow and a bit on me. I push him off the bed and brighten my screen to see if there are any parts of his snack on my bed. He’s still chewing and drooling on the floor. I’m exhausted and push my drooley pillow to the floor because I can’t get out of bed right now. But then I decide I need to check the windowsill for snacky parts. There’s a rather large tree frog sitting on the screen. Crap. I don’t want it to jump on my face while I’m sleeping so I get out of bed slowly, trying not to scare it and also trying not to draw Emmex’s attention to the window. All I need is two frog murders on my conscience.
I grab an old plastic cup from the bathroom to catch the frog. (Word of advice: Frogs are slippery and jump quickly when caught. They also pee when they’re scared. So if you don’t want to end up with a hand full of pee instead of frog, use a container to capture your squishy friend.) I scoop the frog into the cup and start scooching off the bed again to let it go out my back door. I get half way out my bedroom when I look down and the frog is gone. Mother of pearl. I flip the lights on the room (something I had been trying to avoid because I didn’t want to be fully awake) and start looking for Mr Froggy. Emmex is looking too. This would have made a good Froggy Horror Tale.
[My brother, Josh and I would play with a ceramic frog he had and create stories with it while on car trips or when we were bored. The one we both distinctly remember was The Skateboard Massacre. This *story* consisted of a plastic Garfield figure on a skateboard and the froggy trying to cross the half-pipe. It always ended with the froggy getting squashed by Garfield. We had music and everything! We were morbid children.]
I finally found Mr. Froggy and kept my hand over the cup so he couldn’t jump out again. He was safely deposited on my back deck, though his safety from there is rather questionable. (We have a lot of birds.) So the story, mostly, ended.
I wasn’t able to go back to sleep for another hour. Being reduced to one pillow is rough when you’re spoiled with two. Also the thought that another frog would spawn on my window screen kept me awake long enough to ensure I wouldn’t get a squishy surprise on my face or roll over on some poor froggy in my sleep. I did not find whatever Emmex was chewing. He must have swallowed it or I’ll find pieces parts in a really remote part of my house sometime. RIP froggy.
The problem is that after 7 frogs (1 in a kiddo room, 1 in the kiddos’ bathroom, 1 in my bathtub, 1 in my toilet, 1 in the laundry hallway, and now 2 in my bedroom) I have an unwanted taste of frog in my mouth. I rinsed my mouth after brushing this morning and the image arose unbidden in my mind of a frog sitting on my faucet and getting all his or her froggy germs all over it and the water tasted funny somehow. There’s the weird inkling that since I’ve had so many frogs in my house and my allergies have gotten to the point that my asthma hates me every second of every day the frogs are now to blame for my asthma, like I’m breathing in froggy slime, for lack of a better term, and it’s clogging my lungs. I’m also constantly wondering as I drift to sleep if I’ll feel a small hop and a froggy will scare the bejeezus out of me. Or if Emmex will claw me in the middle of the night trying to catch his new snacky. :s I’m blaming this on the time I was tricked into eating a frog leg (told it was chicken but once I said it tasted funny the person fessed up). I swear to god I could feel little legs hopping around in my stomach for days afterward.
I actually like frogs. Used to play with them all the time. I was the one who would catch frogs so the kiddos could see them up close and we’d let them go in whatever wetland they had been found in. But I don’t live close to a pond. And these are frogs, not toads. And they’re getting bigger.
I’m waiting for a plague of flies next.