After Dorsi and I went for our walk this morning, I opened the door to the garage to get her some food. When I got to her food container thing, something caught my eye behind it. Staring up at me was a toad about 3 inches long (and across... perfectly round). It was creamy color with black spots. GROSS! I did what anyone would do. I quickly got the food and ran back inside, slamming the door.
Then I realized that at some point before this toad finally croaks (haha, funny joke) someone in my household will be opening that door to the garage again and they might possibly leave it open for more than a few seconds, giving froggy a perfect opportunity to come explore the inside of the house. Even grosser. Or maybe this is a pregnant toad and is looking for a nice place to lay her eggs. By this point I'm totally freaking out. So I girded my loins (I've never used that expression before, but it seemed appropriate here) and went back into the garage, armed with a large plastic rake. The plan was to open the garage door to the driveway and assist the toad in exiting the premises.
I opened the door, grabbed the rake, and held my breath as I tried to find my new friend. I'm not sure why I held my breath, but it seemed to help me remain courageous. I found the toad and gently tried to coax it toward the door. Instead, it jumped on the rake and I screamed silently (Tommy was still sleeping). I flicked it off and watched as it got trapped near a bag of books. And peed. Yes, my little friend was urinating all over my garage floor. Near my stuff. That I will now proceed to burn.
Before I could push him toward the open garage door and freedom, he jumped toward the pile of Tommy's stuff that he's outgrown. And I lost sight of him.
So now there is a somewhat large toad somewhere in our garage, probably peeing more. If I pull out one of Tommy's old toys one day and there's a gross dead frog, I may pass out.
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