The refreshing summer rain-swept across our lawn and washed the dust from the tender grass. Giant puddles in the driveway looked like miniature fishing ponds. Greyson, my three-year old grandson, excitedly yelled to his papa, “C’mon papa let’s go outside! I won’t get in the water!” It was early morning, the sun had not risen in its full splendor yet, but there was plenty of light to see by. Papa nodded yes to him, but Greyson didn’t see, he was already sprinting to the water puddles. Pa wasn’t fooled, he knew what was going to happen, well, sort of!
Greyson tried, he really did, he backed away from the inviting pools of water and then climbed on his tricycle to speed down the driveway. How could he have known his bike would part the water like that? He made a few swooshes through there, going about 45 miles an hour, when his hawk like eyes spotted a frog. He abandoned the tricycle and chased the huge green frog across the yard and into the bar ditch in front of the house. He jumped and jumped. The frog did too! Finally Greyson’s agility out maneuvered the frog and Greyson captured him.
Greyson was thrilled. He gave his little friend a ride on his tricycle and they swooshed through the puddles like they were the coast guards on a clipper. I know the frog was yearning to swim alone but he stayed with Greyson.
Greyson brought him into the kitchen to meet me. My eyes only popped out a little bit. They would probably have protruded more, but I was busy hoping the frog did not want to stay inside.
“Take him outside, sweetie!” I said to both of them. I didn’t care who took who out….as long as it was out.
Greyson reached for a drinking glass first. “WHOA, there buddy!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing?”
“I’m gonna put my frog in the cup.”
“Umm, no, you are not!” I replied.
He looked so pitiful. His big hand engulfed the body of the frog. All that was visible of the frog was legs and eyeballs, and those seemed to be puffing out a little more than normal! I relented a little bit. It looked to me like the frog was begging too!
“Here, sweetie, I’ll get you a cup for that.”
I figured the frog needed a respite too, so I brought out a 12 0z red Dixie cup. I handed it to Greyson who was so excited to have it, he grinned from ear to ear. He stuffed the frog in the cup and scampered playfully outside.
I cautioned him, “When you get through with the cup, bring it back in. I don’t want it thrown in the yard!”
It was only a few minutes when a saddened little Greyson came back into the kitchen where I was cooking. He brought the empty cup. It seemed the frog had escaped.
Papa opened a string cheese to console him but I intervened. “Whoa! Wash your hand first little buddy!”
“NOOOO in the bathroom,” I screeched when he started to dip his froggy palms in my dishwater. Jerry was grinning so I put him to work too!
It’s impossible to out guess that kid, but I keep trying!
To prevent the bathroom from flooding I said, “Go with him dad, to wash those hands, he’s been holding a slimy little frog.”
Greyson bolted to the bathroom to wash and grabbed his cup off the counter on the way by.
“WHOA! Pa! grab the cup and dispose of it…When he turns the water on he will drink out of it!”
HA! One more day in my boring life. I better get to work!