Farrah

Me: Farrah, I don't feel good, honey. I need you to help take care of Mommy. (sniff, cough, cough)

Farrah: No. You can take care of yourself. I don't want to.

So...this is the life in which I must prepare myself. I should expect by the age of 60, that my daughter will be putting me in an "old-people's" home although I'll be completely healthy and totally coherent. Mike will be wondering where the hell I am and my daughter will simply shrug her shoulders and roll her eyes. At least, she'll be a bit more compassionate in her older age and decide that clearly I can't take care of myself and therefore, will have the nursing staff do it for me. I will, of course, understand this decision of hers, because after all, she did tell me when she was two. I was forewarned.

On a nicer note, she does say to me all the time, "I love you soooooo much, mommy."

My next question should be, "So much that you won't have me put away?"

Agggghhhhhhhh

This evening, Farrah was playing and went towards the door leading to the garage when she suddenly screamed for dear life at the top of her lungs and ran into my arms. I could barely get her to calm down and stop crying. Daddy walked around to see what freaked her out (of course, my first guess was that it was a ghost, though I hoped it wasn't) and found a little frog. Mike was not thrilled to catch it. In fact, he is usually the one to take care of any critter that finds it's way into our home and always without causing damage or death. That's important to him. A frog, however, is an entirely different category than spiders, flies, bees, mice/rats, or unwanted bears. Yes, there is a bear in the Arlington area, but that is unrelated to this story. The frog was bright green and about an inch in length. Mike had tried to put together a sort of trap for the frog that involved putting together a broom, a clear plastic bowl, and duct tape. That way, no one would have to actually get close to the evil frog, which is clearly a sign of the looming apocalypse. 2012 y'all! So, I was too impatient to catch the beast while my daughter clung to me for safety. I handed her off to her Daddy while I grabbed the bowl. I started to inch toward it while Farrah whined and Mike pulled out his phone to take a picture. He let me know the reason why he wanted to make the tool was because the frog was cornered and only had one way to jump... and that would be straight for me. My hair started to raise on my neck as I approached, and the monster moved!!! I shrieked and ran away. When I say "move", it did just that. It turned around. That's it. It scared the effin' shit out of me. Mike finally stepped up to his appointed plate and took the bowl from me. He stretched his arm as far away from his body as it would go while the bowl was in hand. He followed the fleeing frog until he found his moment. It was captured under a Glad Disposable bowl. He scooped the Maxim magazine under it. In the moment he examined it, he discovered it was the same frog that was in our house YESTERDAY. It had the same Pine needle on its head. How the hell did he get back in here??? No, this was not our first encounter with this frog. We thought it was a sign that we needed to start building an arc. In the end, we decided to release the frog out into our backyard which is close to a creek. Hopefully, he will remember that is where he is supposed to live. He needs to know we do not like unwelcome guests. And clearly, Farrah is not a fan of things that jump at her.


On a side note...
We were watching the news and there was a story about a raging fire on a big dock. The news anchor said that the dock was "badly damaged by the fire". And Mike and I had to stop and look at each other with confusion in our eyes. In the footage, it showed us that it was a catastrophic loss of the entire dock. There was no dock left. So, by "badly damaged" they meant completely destroyed. Mike decided that was about as close to saying, "Carol was struck by a car and partially killed and she is not expected to survive her funeral, although her family is still holding out hope." I felt this humorous comment deserved a post. Take a bow, Mike.