I'm still hacking up a lung, but what I'd really rather blog about the frog. Last night, as I was was pulling out of work, I noticed a medium sized frog hopping across the road. Hop, hop, ho! I think I hit it. Wait, no I didn't. Pull over, cuz I'm catching that bad boy for my kids. What to put it in? Ah, I'll just hold it until I get home. It's only 15 minutes. Hey, this thing's slimey. Whoop, there it went, down on the floor. Oh, well, I guess it's safe there for 10 more minutes. So, I get home, and turn on the dome light, and .... where's the frog? Well, it's probably under the seat. I'll get a flashlight and get down on the floor.... huh? no frog. Couldn't find it last night, after a detailed search. Couldn't find it this morning with the help of the kids, in another detailed search. I am the laughing stock of ... well, myself. I've become my own proverb: The fool cannot find a frog in a car with both hands and flashlight. Write that down, people.
Oh well, I guess eventually I'll find it when the smell comes into play. "Jerry, what do you have in the car that smells like a dead frog?" That'd be the dead frog, darling, wanna help me find it?
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