I just got my laptop back from the shop and I'm finding it to still be acting wonky. Because of this, I've had to sit on this story for a week and it's been killing me with anticipation. I was so badly traumatized by this amphibious incident that I had to share.

It all began about a week or so again when my kids visited their grandparents in Rio Dell. By their house is a swampy area known to harbor many types of creepy crawly things. My kids totally scored by finding a large frog - a frog so big in fact, that Taters swore it could eat our kittens. My orders, just prior to going to bed from a long graveyard shift, were simple; do not bring it home.

At about three in the afternoon, I was woken up to the sound of my bedroom door opening and incessant shooshing and giggling. Hubby and the three kids walked in and softly called my name. I ducked back under the covers because I wasn't ready to face the world of daylight. I should have just stayed there.

As Hubby pulled the covers back, I saw that he had a coffee can with a large hole poked in the lid. I believe you can call this a "clue." I ducked back under the covers. I knew something was up and the size of that container's air hole worried me just a tad. I was not interested in meeting what the can had in it and I announced my distaste, again, of anything creepy, crawly, slimy or jumpy. I received snickers for my protests.

The three kids and grinning Hubby assured me that what they brought home was so awesome, I would surely thank them in the end. I highly doubted it but poked my head out of the comforter anyway. Seeing the whites of my eyes caused Hubby to remove the lid. This is what greeted me:

Hey baby, why dontcha give me a smooch and I'll prove what a prince I can be. Muah. How could you refuse these biceps?

It slowly crawled out the bucket and I proceeded to shriek then scream. I screamed for my friggin' life and the life of my kittens. The damn thing was so big that it probably would have eaten Gunny should he have held still long enough. The beast slithered on out of the can and continued my torment. It also did a few push-ups on it's way out, I'm sure in an attempt to impress me. Sorry horny toad, it did nothing for me:

Come on, baby, you can't tell me you don't likey the pecs on this manimal.

No muscled flexing or winking was going to get a smooch out of me. I already had three princes in my life; I didn't need another one. Sensing rejection, he paused for a moment to contemplate life.

Ya hurt me, baby. Who am I gonna share my warts with now? Not too mention that special sauce I ooze from my back.

I took it as an impending threat to jump and promptly hid again underneath the covers, still screaming. He accepted his romantic defeat and proceeded to crawl up Hubby's arm. Maybe Taters would give him a chance?

Get me outta here. This biotch is crazy! The screaming is making me wanna ooze. Ribbit.

As I screamed for my family to get the *&*% out of my room and to take their monster with them, my lovely children grinned devilishly and stood their ground. Hubby finally took pity on my raspy voice and ordered the kiddos outside with the beast. After a brief conversation, the beast was turned loose in a nearby creek to forever live his days in murky happiness and possibly find his own warty princess.