Why Lola may start closing my doors when she’s home alone.

I’m pretty exhausted and have been fighting with my computer all evening, and finally my attempt to get the internet working prevailed.

I’m a pretty typical girl in the sense that I am afraid of some things that are unreasonable, and not afraid of things that I possibly should be.  For instance, feeding 1200 pound horses while my husband is gone is not especially frightening to me, even with our retarded dogs antagonizing them and causing massive bucking productions.  (This never happens when Oatmeal is home, the dogs only act like freaks and cause this insane horse bucking when it’s just Lola.  Naturally.)

I’m not afraid of snakes, I just avoid them.  If I see one in the road, sure I’ll run it over, but if I see one in the woods, I’ll walk away quietly, not screaming.  I don’t dig roaches but I can handle them without jumping on the couch.  You know my thoughts on scorpions… I’m not going to start a fan club, but I’m not going to scream in terror either.  And spiders actually really do not bother me.  If I find them in the house, they get stepped on, period.  But otherwise, I just knock down their webs and leave them alone to rebuild.

There is one organism out there that will make me absolutely lose my friggin’ mind. 

Frogs.  Frogs, people, scare the everliving shiznit out of me.  I just… don’t… do… frogs.

So last week I woke up and hopped in the shower as usual.  Oatmeal was long gone, the dogs were outside, it was just me in the house.  I lathered up my hair and heard something “thump” and for a minute I thought I was going to open my eyes and see Goose’s tail banging against the shower door.  Which often happens when he nuzzles the back door open with his nose and comes in to “check” on me.

I opened my eyes and looked around.  Then I saw it… the frog.  The “thump” was the sound of it jumping up onto the shower wall, at eye level. 

I completely lost my mind.  Imagine the most horrid, blood curdling, piercing, terrifying scream that you’ve heard, likely while watching the scariest movie you’ve ever seen.  Imagine the scream lasts… oh, 5 seconds?  Maybe even 8.  (Scream for 8 seconds, that’s a long time.)

Seconds later I found myself in the kitchen, dripping wet, bathrobe on, jerking my iphone off the charger and dialing Oatmeal as fast as possible.

Oatmeal: Hello?


Oatmeal: Um… no.


Oatmeal:  I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Lola:  Hmm, so the frog just got into the shower BY HIMSELF!?!!

Oatmeal:  I didn’t put a frog in the shower honey. 


Oatmeal:  I don’t know, maybe he came in when you left the door open for the dogs.

Dang Oatmeal, always blaming everything on me leaving the door cracked for the dogs. 

I hung up.  I returned to the shower.  Slowly peeked in.  Did not see frog.  Took my crutch (leftover from my knee surgery) and stuck it slowly into the shower.  I held my breath and knocked the bottle of shower cleaner over and sure enough THERE WAS THE FROG.

Now let me put this in perspective for you.  This frog was, well, probably the size of a golf ball.

I KNOW!  THAT’S HUGE!  You don’t have to tell me!  Pick yourself off the floor people, this really happened.

What occurred next is very blurry in my memory, as it was so petrifying that it caused permanent memory loss.  If I close my eyes and try really hard to go back in time and remember what happened, I think I remember hopping around my shower while screaming bloody murder and trying to trap the frog under a tupperware container.  Then, not gonna lie, I blacked out.

When I came to, I was looking out the window of my front door at the tupperware container sitting on my brand new Williams Sonoma baking sheet.  Frog inside. 

Once again, I reached for the crutch, opened the door, knocked the lid off the sheet, SCREAMED, and slammed the door.  When my heart rate had slowed to normal, I looked out the window again.

I know, I know, scariest thing you’ve ever seen.  Look away.  Let your heart slow down.  I have to.

Deep breath.

When I went to work that morning, I went out the side door.  I washed the baking sheet and tupperware dish about 5 times when I returned home. 

Moral of the story:  Lola is no longer leaving the door cracked for the dogs.  And inspecting the shower for frogs each morning.

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