Excuse me, it was not a frog, but a toad living in my garden. So says some propeller head who obviously doesn't have a life or anything better to do with his time than know that frogs probably don;t live in the area, and was able to identify the toad from a brief description. Ha ha.
Also, I discover that being a fragile princess is not always a good thing. Imagine being able to feel a single pea from beneath 12 matresses? WTF? More on that later.
Another thing though, the frog has gone. This means that either my cat has eaten it (and will soon puke it up all over some treasured item of clothing I leave for a nano-second on the floor) or the ladies in my cul-de-sac kissed it and it transformed into their prince.
Some of us never have any luck.
Oh well, back to scrubbing the floors...
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