This morning I had to leave to clean a house. I walked out the front door and got in the car when I saw the front door fly open and heard a bunch of screaming. I ran back inside expecting dismemberment or at least a gaping head wound. All the girls were on the top of the couch screaming, "There's a real live frog in our house!!!!" (OK, so I must add in here that Leah was not on the couch screaming. If she ever reads this, it will be important to her that she was not classified as a "girly girl".)

So this frog was maybe two inches long. The girls said when I opened the door to leave it just jumped right in. I scooped it up and put it in a jar. After a few memories of loosing "pet" ladybugs, rolly poly bugs and slugs in the house filtered through my mind, I quickly re-evaluated my decision and just let the frog "go back to it's family who would miss it so much". Frog crisis averted and only minor emotional trauma sustained.