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Thursday, July 30, 2009

trashy thursday: frog soup


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So Shoeless Mommy went camping like two weeks ago and I blogged about how much I missed her while she was gone. She is after all one of my bff's.

I rang her like several hours after she'd left for Hope. I just wanted to see if she'd gotten settled in and how the cabins were and if she were sharing with other visitors to bible camp.

"It's raining frogs!" She told me.


Okay a bit random and strange but not entirely uncommon coming from her.

"Pardon me?" I said.

"Hundreds and hundreds of them. F...R...O...G...S...! I'm surrounded by them."


I now had a mental image of Miss Shoeless kissing all these toads while walking along the beach. I mean she is searching for those sneakers and I had to laugh.

"Do you want some?" She asked.

"Frogs?"

"Yes frogs?"

"Uh -- mmm -- okay, cool!"


And that was how I ended up with four small, greenish looking (SPERM) in a milk jug the day she came home. It was also the big joke around here. Don't send Shoeless to bible camp. She prayed, ate good food and brought home sperm in a bucket.

Now I knew very little about tadpoles except for how cute I remembered them being the last I'd seen them down in the canyon off Marine Drive as my brother and I tried to collect a few to bring home, but mom wouldn't hear of it. She doesn't do slimy (mom).

Such as did you know they don't really eat anything? In fact as they begin the (morphing) period which is where they begin to lose their tales and grow legs, they feed off the nutrients in their tales and then later they eat...GUESS?

My sooooooooooo not favorite thing! BUGS! Go figure eh?

So there we had in a bowl four tads swimming round the rocks. And in a manner of two days nearly all of them had legs. Also in a manner of days (3 of them) died. Leaving only one. The above shot is of ERIC our last and still surviving froglet.

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Can you see him? Some of the rocks in his habitat are bigger than he is lol.

Now PB (pickleboy) absolutely loves Eric. In fact he's so absolutely thrilled with him and wants to wear the gloves to hold him all the time. He talks to him, tells people they are good friends and how as soon as Eric gets bigger he's going to take him to school with him. And he always --ALWAYS tells people ...


"My frog is not dead yet?"

Three year olds are so adorable at times.

Every day either myself or DH put Eric and his habitat outside for several hours of sunshine because he truly loves it. We make sure he has enough pin head crickets and algae pills to munch on and DISTILLED water in his wetland area.

I answer all the questions PB asks him concerning Eric such as how much should he eat? Why does he hop? Does he like to swim? Can he sleep with me?

On this particular day I was outside in the morning putting Eric on the ground when PB came up behind me and asked me a question he'd never asked before.


"Mama can we eat Eric?"


I grinned instantly. Mmmm I thought, my boy is intelligent. He'd asked me everything under the sun concerning this baby froglet except the most obvious question. Do people eat frogs?

"Yes," I replied. His eyes instantly grew wide and he stared at me unsure. I then went on to explain that some people eat frogs legs or make soup when the frog gets big and plump. But that was not our plan. Eric was a family member.

Seemingly satisfied I had answered his question to his liking, off he trounced.

About an hour later I hear this commotion at the door and someone yelling 'MAIL MAMA!' so down the hall I went to collect what had come. And there was the mail lady looking at me very angrily.


"Your little one here told me you have a frog. Is that true?"


I nodded.


"You know some species of frogs are endangered," she bit sharply.


I had no idea why the hostile tone. "Yes I'm aware of that." I replied. "Ours is not one of those species."


"It's awful what you are going to do!" She tossed the mail at me and left.

WTF?

I picked up the mail and looked down at PB who stood next to me. "What did you say to her about Eric?" I asked him.

Guess what he told her?

My darling three year old told our mail lady that when his froggie gets big and plump (yes plump) I was going to make frog soup!!!!!!

The nerve of her to get angry with me. And you know what was even worse. The first thought that rolled off my stupid brain when she left was --- FAT CHANCE IF SHE'S GETTING ANY!








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