I have a new friend. We haven't always been friends, but it seems that we're kind of stuck together, so we've decided to become friends instead of life long enemies. No, I'm not talking about my husband. I'm talking about Gerald, the frog that lives in my bathtub.
He doesn't live in my bathtub as much as under it. A few weeks ago (or maybe months, I've lost track) I woke to the sound of a frog croaking near by. I had noticed a few days before that there was a large population of frogs taking up residence in our shed. I assumed that a loan frog had hopped it's little self around the house next to our bedroom. I stepped outside to see if I could find him and shut him up. It was a Saturday morning and I really wanted to sleep in. I stepped outside and the croaking got softer. I stepped inside again and the croaking got louder. After stepping in and out a few more times just to make sure my ears were not playing tricks on me I realized that the sound was coming from my bathroom. That thoroughly grossed me out. I don't hate frogs, but I don't want them in my bathroom. My husband wasn't home to deal with the frog, so I poked my head into the bathroom to see if I could just put him under a cup or something. But I didn't see him anywhere. Not under the sink, not in the window, or any of the cupboards. Then he stopped croaking. I crawled back into bed and just forgot about the whole thing.
The next morning I took my shower and was busy with my normal morning rituals when he started croaking again. I detective skills placed the noise coming from somewhere in the vicinity of the bathtub. But there certainly wasn't a frog in the there when I was taking a shower. I looked again just to be sure, but there was definately not a frog there. Even so, there were most assuredly ribbits coming from my bathtub. Weeks have gone by and he is still there, living somewhere under my bathtub.
I only assume it is a he because no self respecting she-frog would get herself trapped under a bathtub. Or maybe she would...but all the other frogs (when they were still around, it's much to cold now) were living far away from my bathroom. Every day Gerald calls out for someone to find him. I've tried to scare him away by jumping up and down and stamping my feet all around the bathroom, much to the amusement of my husband. That only makes him croak louder. He seems to like it when I sing though. At least he shuts up when I sing.
Now if you're wondering why I have put up with Gerald for so long, it is simple: I don't like going under houses. Especially when I know there are frogs under there!! And neither does my dear husband. So...Gerald seems to be stuck with us, or we are stuck with him. He has stopped waking me up on Saturday mornings though, so that's good. We've come to an understanding. He doesn't start croaking until I'm out of the shower, and I don't stomp around when I'm in there.
