Last night, while Christine and I were surfin' the Net, I turned to my right and quickly jumped up.
Chillin' on the floor two feet away from me was a frog.
How the hell he got in, I still don't know. The door was closed and the slanted window panes were not nearly thick enough for him to slide through.
But there he was, in all his froggy flesh.
I took a pic of him, which I think made him go blind. He didn't move. I took another one, but it, too, came out blurry. I gave up and turned back to my computer.
When I looked for him again, he was gone. Gone.
First I checked my shoes. Samantha from last year told us that sometimes they like to hide in your sneakers. But I found no frog.
I looked under the chairs and table. No frog. Where the hell did this thing go?!
If I end up with a toad in my bed, I might just freak.
But I guess it's better than curlin' up next to a centipede...