|Killer attack frog.|
My mother in law is scared of frogs and until today I thought she was balmy. Not anymore.
Today at work I tottled off to the loo to take care of some paperwork. I was well prepared, having freed up a good wedge of time and taken in my book. Unfortunately, things didn’t quite go to plan.
Starting a fresh chapter of Guns, Germs & Steel, sudden movement to my right caught my attention. Fearing it was one of those loathsome beasts, the dreaded mouse, I managed a maneuver which saw my ankles up about chest level – not easy for a man who even on a good day can’t touch his shins.
Fortunately, it wasn’t a mouse. It was a frog. And an odd frog at that – a brownie grey number with a triangular head.
I used my foot to move it along towards the door and prepared to settle back into my book.
No such luck.
The little blighter turned around and looked at me. I used my foot again. Gently, I assure you.
It turned around and confronted me again. This time, as I stretched out to nudge it away, it attacked me! It jumped and landed on my shoe.
I flicked it off in much the same way the Crocodile Hunter wouldn’t.
It turned to face me again.
This time I could see what it was trying to do – it was trying to get into my pants.
At this point in the story, when I was explaining it to Tracey, she assured me that no one, neither man, woman or frog, would ever in their right minds be trying to get into my pants. She’s reassuring like that.
So the toilet stop ended with me sitting on the loo with my pants pulled up to my knees, fending off the attack frog with my shoes while I tried to complete my transaction and retreat to the relative safety of the office. In one lot of evasive maneuvers I even pulled a muscle in my shoulder.
Next time my mother in law comes over I’m going to apologize for ever doubting her: frogs are terrifying.