Pringles are yummy, but not this kind

Today I came home from eating lunch with my math man husband and kids around 12:45 pm. Mary has fallen asleep in her car seat so I send the boys upstairs to play quietly while I go put her in her crib. When I walk into the living room I see something scurry under the TV console.



Yes, scurry.


I set Mary down and go to investigate. It's a frog. A yucky, disgusting frog. I quickly grab the phone and call my dad. He's a great critter catcher. Ask him about bats and geckos---he has stories about both. Anyway, I ask him to come over and catch it. He laughs and says to use a cup. I don't have a cup so I grab a semi-empty Pringles can, dump the chips in the sink, and approach the frog. I take one step towards the slimy thing and it HISSES at me! I start screaming---my dad is still on the phone and is laughing. He assures me that the frog can't see me it can only sense movement. Well, since I am shaking and screaming I am pretty sure he knows exactly where I am at. I corner the ba#$^&d and lunge forward with the Pringles can. I catch him but his leg gets caught when I put the lid on so I have to open the can and put the lid on again. Sigh.



Now, it's time to be a cool mom and so I call the boys downstairs to look at it. Isaac thinks he is just going to see chips in the Pringles can and jumps backwards when the frog jumps inside the can. Luke asks if we can keep it for a pet. "Cool! It'd be so cool to have a frog pet!" "No."

I release the sick thing outside and give it stink eye because I now hear that Mary is awake and crying.