On August 8 – the first day I was able to put my shoes on and go out and water my lawn after a week of recovering from the great white shark attack on my toe – the frog was in my shoe. This wasn’t the first or second or even third visit, either. But it was the fourth one I caught with my camera.
So I dumped him out and snapped some photos for your amusement.
There he is. In my shoe. Which means the dance begins.
Sometimes I consider buying new gardening shoes just so he won't be disturbed. (Don't tell Kim)
"You don't scare me, fat boy."
He's so lethargic when I find him in my shoe in the mornings.
A wee bit disillusioned, too. I mean, what's he trying to do here? Hide under the shoe? Fat chance.
Until we meet again ...
i need to find a recipe for frog legs….