The Evil Genius Hops Away

Alexis and I sat near the fire pit deeply engrossed in a conversation about whether s'mores should have one marshmallow or two when I looked down and realized we had a guest.

We didn't invite the frogs to live in our pond. They moved in on their own accord and have since turned the area around the water irises into their own personal paradise. I don't know exactly how many are living in the pond, but I know there are multiple. We tolerate their presence, but only barely. If you've ever sat outside near a body of water in spring, you know why. Male frogs are . . . uh . . . very vocal about their desire to find a mate. They make crazy amounts of noise at volumes that seem impossible for something so small. When more than one of them start doing it, the sound can be deafening.

As Alexis and I finally reached an agreement that two marshmallows is always better than one, I noticed that our little friend had moved closer. Much closer. He was out of the water and sitting no more than six inches from Alexis, apparently enjoying the fire as much as we were.

But then he kept going. He jumped out of the pond proper and started hopping and hopping through the garden, eventually coming to a stop beneath the weeping cherry tree more than 35 feet away.

Yes, I followed a frog through my garden. What? I was curious to see what he was up to. I finally decided that he must have had a hot date scheduled and his lady love was to meet him beneath the cherry tree. My hypothesis seemed to be proven right when the little frog was so insistent on staying in his spot that he didn't mind me shining a flashlight on him and shoving the camera in his face.

See? The frog wanted his mug captured and posted here. Maybe all the other frogs in the area read this site? Maybe he needed a photo for his Craigslist ad? I can't be sure of anything other than the fact that the frog was willing to sit perfectly still for a very long time.

Eventually I grew bored of photographing my little green and brown friend and returned to the bench to continue chatting with Alexis. As she started to weave a tale filled with magic and mayhem, I realized we had company again.

I don't know where the beast came from, but THAT frog was easily twice the size of the first and far more colorful.

Which probably means the first frog wasn't a male after all.

Which probably means the girl frog ran away from her usual haunt and went to hide under the cherry tree.

Moments later, the boy frog was obviously searching the irises for a "friend." He sang his song of love and devotion at the top of his lungs.

The other much smaller and probably female frog stayed tucked safely under the cherry tree way on the other side of the yard.

Which is all to say, I do believe I witnessed a girl frog completely dissing her horny pondmate. Who knew girl frogs were such evil geniuses?

The Very Last Kid

I promise to quit acting like my kid was the first in the history of the world to lose a tooth right . . . about . . . NOW.

You guys, it sucks harder than a Dyson when your kid is the VERY LAST KID in her kindergarten class to lose a tooth. I know she was the VERY LAST KID because every day for the past several weeks I've been told, "Mom, I'm the VERY LAST KID to lose a tooth. Waaaah!" The "Waaaah" may not have actually been included in her statement, but it was implied. Loudly. And with a sigh.

So. Here's the thing. In my head, the Tooth Fairy is kind of a cheap bastard. I haven't figured out what she wants all of those teeth for in the first place, but since so many kids are perfectly willing to let her have them, the price is pretty low. Supply and demand, you know? I was thinking $1 for the first tooth and then I was planning to start stealing quarters from the kid's piggy bank for any subsequent teeth.

The kid is spoiled, for the record. She is spoiled MIGHTILY...by ME. The Tooth Fairy doesn't need to take credit for spoiling given all that the kid manages to score.

But it turns out that there are plenty of parents who are perfectly willing to let the Tooth Fairy seem like Donald Trump after a drunken night hanging out with Mother Theresa. They are throwing cash at kids like WOAH. Alexis cheerfully reported that one kid got $10 for his tooth. I heard about how another got $5 plus a toy.

And then there is my personal favorite. One of Alexis' friends got a diary.

That may not sound like much, but THAT was the Tooth Fairy offering that Alexis clung to the most. Never mind the fact that the kid has something like ten diaries, she was absolutely convinced that the Tooth Fairy was going to deliver yet another one.

The Tooth Fairy didn't realize just how serious the kid was about the diary thing. WHOOPS.

Remember how Alexis sleeps in a loft? That is five feet up in the air? Yeah. It turns out that the ladder for that loft squeaks when grown-ups try to climb it, so there was no way for the Tooth Fairy to gracefully deliver anything. Instead, she balanced precariously on a tiny little footstool as she groped in the dark for a pillow to shove some cash under, risking life and limb because there is no telling what the kid has stashed up there. I wouldn't be entirely surprised if she is training a herd of rabid hamsters to attack anyone who approaches the loft. They could survive on stuffed animal innards, Kleenex and that mysterious goo that all kids seem to have on their hands.

Despite all that was required for the Tooth Fairy to make the delivery, Alexis woke up and was nothing short of shattered. There was no diary! Just $5! Waaaaaah! WAAAAH! WAAAAAAH!

I'm not exaggerating at all when I say Alexis sobbed for a solid ten minutes because the Tooth Fairy had the nerve to skip town without leaving a diary behind. It just so happened that we were headed to Cleveland to go to the I-X Center Indoor Amusement Park that day or she would probably STILL be sitting in the corner sobbing quietly to herself. Fortunately, she was distracted by shiny things like roller coasters and pink inflatable dolphins.

Could we please pass a law that says the Tooth Fairy is only allowed to deliver cash? Preferably something that can be covered with a coin or two?

Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle YEAH!

"Look, momma! I can turn my tooth all the way backwards!" Alexis cried out from the back seat, enthusiasm dripping from her every syllable.

Three things:

1. I told you there was nothing holding that tooth in place.

2. Thank ye gods of puke prevention that the kid was strapped securely into a car seat and couldn't shove that disgusting stub of a flappy tooth in my face.

3. My military father would be impressed with the number of swear words that flew through my mind. More impressive, however, is the fact that none of them passed through my lips. I DESERVE A COOKIE, PEOPLE.

"Just...leave your tooth alone, Alexis," I stammered.

That tooth was held in place by nothing more than will power. Alexis had discovered that it gave her magical super powers and she was in no hurry to relinquish them. More than once she had cried out, "Look, momma!" and then violently wiggled that horror show of a tooth in my face, falling over laughing in anticipation of my response.

My response was always the same. "Revolted" is probably the best word for it. My convulsions and disgust always served to make Alexis laugh harder.

The child enjoys my misery.

If I were smart, I would have turned around in the car and yanked that backwards tooth out of her face. The very thought of doing it was enough to make me gag, though. There was no way that I could even get close to the flappy thing.

And so it wasn't until the next morning that the flappy tooth was finally set free.

I was jolted to consciousness at Way Too Early o'Clock when Alexis burst through our bedroom door squealing with delight. "Looooook! My tooth fell out! Looooooook!" she continued to chirp as she shoved that disgusting lump of grossness in my face. Blood dripped from her mouth . . . OK, not really. But I imagined that blood dripped from her mouth. Did I mention that it was Way Too Early o'Clock?

"I DON'T NEED TO SEE IT!"  I cried out as I tried to escape the horror show. "Just . . . go . . . do something. Go watch The Disney Channel or something," I practically begged.

The always chipper six-year old grinned from ear-to-ear as she turned on her heel and headed downstairs.

She returned a few minutes later with a tiny little food container cradled carefully in her hands. "Look, momma! I got my tooth ready for the Tooth Fairy!"

Even *I* can admit that is sort of cute. You know, if you ignore the creeptastic little tooth sitting next to the note.

And if you ingore the gaping hole in her smile.

How many more times do I have to survive this?

Wait.

Don't answer that.

I'm just going to pretend it's a one-time thing.