bloodteethandflame

Much like the rest of the country, the weather around here has been unbearably hot (even for August!), with temperatures reaching close to 87 degrees at 3 AM.

So, as I am prone to do when it’s that hot, I have been sleeping in the living room under the ceiling fan (because my husband is one of those people who cannot seem to sleep ‘while a cold breeze is blowing on [him])’ — which is fine by me.

So, a few nights ago, that’s where I was – trying to sleep on the living room couch – when I was suddenly awakened by the sensation of something landing on the side of my face.

Suitably freaked out, I opened my eyes, and involuntarily swatted my face, to see *a white frog* land on the coffee table in front of me.

It looked very similar to this:

The fact that it was white struck me as a bit strange, as I did not know that frogs could be white, as I had assumed that most frogs around here were of more camouflaging colors, such as green, and brown, or gray.

And how it got into my house, much less onto my face seemed a mystery too – though once I thought about it, I figured that it must’ve gotten in earlier in the evening. (Perhaps it had been hiding between the cushions of the couch and climbed out soon after I laid down, who knows….)

So I got up and opened the slider door (which is a scant three feet from the couch) in hopes that it would simply hop back out on its own before any of my four cats noticed its presence…

But it didn’t budge.

So, figuring that it would realize the situation soon enough and make its escape, I left the slider open and I laid back down on the couch.

I even closed my eyes.

But then, this frog did an unexpected thing: it jumped onto my face again.

Surprised, I involuntarily sat up and the frog tumbled limply into my lap…and simply sat quietly in the folds of my night-shirt.

And it sat there for a solid 5 minutes.

It didn’t look hurt or scared – or even that bothered to be sitting on my lap.

Silly frog, I thought to myself, you’re so odd. And we are lucky that none of the cats are around.

Then, cradling the frog in my shirt, I slowly stood up and walked through the open slider and into the patio.

Once outdoors, I crouched down at the edge of the bricks, and I dropped this weird little white frog gently onto the grass.

And still, it sat there – looking like an unbaked dinner roll in the shadows of the grass of my backyard – several moments before it hopped away.

Weird.