Maybe Not So Much

I was thinking it would be fun for the girls to go frog catching in our backyard. Drew said he's seen them making a jump for it when he's mowing the lawn. They're only little things, but the experience alone would be priceless. That's what I thought until yesterday anyway when we found one on our back porch steps (below). I blame it on puberty: I was kind of grossed out. I mean I used to catch horned toads in the field behind our house growing up, and now I need a ten foot pole to prod a teeny little frog out of its corner. But I totally encouraged the girls to touch him gently. (Times like this I'm glad I don't have boys.) At one point, G asked me, "Do you want to touch it, Mama?" I told her, "No, thank you, I'm not interested." In her excitement, BB poked him (accidentally) in the face a couple of times; and they watched him like a hawk, always angling to get a better view, for nearly 45 minutes.