the intimate frog

*one year ago today, pre-blog…*

I needed a full day to recuperate and stop shaking before I could share my story. Now that I finally find it to be (A LITTLE) funny and not utterly horrifying, I hope others will share in the hilarity.

Yesterday, after going potty, I casually glanced back to ensure everything had flushed as intended, when I noticed a… smudge of some sort. “What the heck is that,” I wondered and leaned my nearly-8-months-pregnant self over to investigate.

“Omg. Are… those… eyes?”

Yep. They were eyes.

Because this, right here in my toilet, right up front, right where I had just been sitting, was a full-blown, full-size, I’m-not-talking-about-a-cute-baby-frog friggin FROG.

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Yep. Well, I don’t do frogs. I don’t even do bugs. I especially don’t do creatures that definitely weren’t invited to the potty.

After screaming bloody murder and slamming the bathroom door shut with me on the outside now (like THAT was gonna show this frog I meant business or something), with eyes still wide, I sadly realized that Horrifying Toilet Frog would be there until PatrickĀ got home.

My anxiety couldn’t handle the thought of how easily he could exit the toilet, find me in my office, and jump on my face. So, naturally, after considering options such as Saran Wrap (which I didn’t even have) and foil (I’m not sure what I had in mind with the foil TBH…), I mustered up enough courage to re-enter the bathroom with an extended grill fork and duct tape in tow.

The fork was simply to lift the lid from afar to ensure HTF hadn’t gotten out yet somehow. Its dual potential as weaponry if needed was merely coincidental, but reassuring.

I then proceeded to duct tape the lid shut.

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Not satisfied enough, I then proceeded to shove a blanket under the bathroom door.

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When Crocodile Dundee aka Patrick got home, he oh-so-easily used gloves to grab HTF out of the toilet, placed him in a jar, and released him out back.

Taking bets on how soon until he returns to haunt my private time… and my dreams… once more… šŸ˜’