Not many people have the great uphill battles of the princes. That is, the unchanged ones that come in the frog shapes. They sort of always appear and make their homes and are almost impossible to get rid of. When I was younger, the toilets were plagued with these happy princes. They loved that it never overflowed and yet it was almost always moist enough for their liking. I have no idea what they ate, probably ants or other household pests.
The first time I encountered a prince that moved in to our toilet, I screamed my head off; and since I was still quite young, my mother came rushing to my aid. Upon seeing the poor amphibian, she got a broom…yes, a broom, and swept the fella into the toilet. We had one of those squat toilets so that was easily done. She flushed the toilet and we never saw the fella ever again.
The second time, I was still just as disgusted and ran to my dad for assistance. You didn't expect me to just bathe with the prince, did you? My dad had a different approach; which was to scoop up the intruder into a plastic bag, and throw him out to the nearby forestry. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure it's the same one that reappeared in the toilet again a week later.
It's not an uncommon thing, to have frogs take up residence in toilets; but it freaks me out anyways. What if it decides to jump up at me as I was bathing? I know it had no business doing that; it's not like their predatory or anything, but something about these amphibians that just freaks me out.
I've learnt that in the villages where amphibians were most common, especially during rainy season, one should be particularly wary of toilet intruders. I would carefully inspect the corners of the toilet before going in. Making sure none were lurking in the room. Being half blind without my glasses, this was quite tricky since it meant that I would have to put on my glasses, inspect the corners, then take off my glasses, undress, find a nice dry spot for my glasses, and commence my bathing activities. Ahhh, a nice peaceful frogless bathing experience. Now time to brush my teeth. Toothbrush, meet toothpaste. Cream. Hands reach out to turn on the tap…
Holy crap on a cracker…..IT WAS ON THE SINK!!!!!
Awww Helllllll nooooooooooooo…..
How'd the hell did the fat thing get up that high? Can he climb?? Heeeeeyuckksssss…..
An uncle of mine told me of a battle he once fought. It wasn't the toilet loving types that irked him. It was the shoe-inhibiters. I guess 'cause it was warm and snuggly for them, they just loved to crawl in at night and good luck to whoever slips their feet in the next morning. You wiggle your toes forward the way you do when you put on shoes and suddenly you feel the jelly-ish textures against your socks and your like I hope it's not…..Oh hell…it is…and you have to throw out your dazed tenant and put on the shoe anyways and it sucks 'cause you know just a few minutes ago a frog was in it and now you're putting your foot in.
So my uncle was having this problem. Two days in a row a frog had taken a liking for his shoe. There were half a dozen other shoes outside the house, but it chooses his shoes. And always the left shoe. So after two days of finding the fella curled up in his shoe, my uncle decides to be the wiser and prop up his shoes against the wall so that the shoes were upright and it just wasn't possible for the fella to get up in it.
Happy that he had displayed his superior intellect to the frog, he happily got ready for work the next day and put on his shoe.
It was inside.
How the dude clung on to keep up with the snuggly part of the shoe, no one will ever know. Needless to say, my uncle brought his shoes inside from that day on.
It was always like a third party story for me, this frog-in-shoe thing. My mother had it, my father had it, my other family had some version of it. But it never happened to me. Until one day. I was going to school, and it was a particularly cold morning and I wished I could just snuggle back up in bed. I was still sleepy and even my morning shower had not woken me up. I put on my school shoes, and suddenly my toes met a slightly rough squishy fatness. Oh no, could it be…..? I gave it little thought and my leg spasmed forward. My shoe flew across the patio, across the driveway, and out the front gate, and fell right next to my father who was tidying the car. He seemed to know what the problem could be. He shook out the culprit and walked over to me and wordlessly handed me my shoe.
Thanks dad. I looked down at the shoe.
No comments:
Post a Comment