December 13, 1979
The trees are all naked, there’s hardly any green grass left, and I haven’t seen a toad frog in weeks. Winter must be here!
I’ve often wondered where the frogs go in the cold months. Do they hibernate and live on stored up fat? I didn’t realize flies were fattening. I’ll have to try them if they are—I seem to like everything else that’s loaded with calories.
And if they’re sleeping then they miss the Christmas holiday. No lights, no presents, no Christmas cheer.
I knew one once that missed the lights and presents but he sure enough got in on a little of the cheer.
’Course, knowing he was going to be doing his THING come the right time of the year, my brother, sister and I all had to give him his portion of the season in August. But he didn’t seem to mind—too much.
It slips my mind as to just what ever made us feel sorry for the old fellow. Maybe it was the heat and visions of a nice WHITE Christmas. At any rate, HE came hopping up in the yard and my brother picked him up.
We decided that it was an absolute shame that he’d spend his holiday in a hole without even so much as a barbequed fly or a chocolate covered ant to feast upon.
So, being a good-hearted soul, I went in the house and took some CHEER out of the bottle behind Mother’s picture which was on the chest of drawers.
I guess he had his own ideas about life. Maybe he’d sworn off the last time his wife nagged him because he came home feeling too good. But whatever, he REFUSED to have anything to do with our present.
We sure couldn’t have that! Poppa kept the hypodermic needle he gave the hogs their shots with in a chest drawer so we just filled up the needle with the CHEER, and my brother held the old boy’s arm up. I played anesthesiologist and gave him a little SHOT.
He got all excited! Tried to dance a little jig but seemed to have two left feet. Even attempted to sing “Jingle Bells” but sounded a little CROAKY.
My sister found a box to put him in until he could get home safely.
After all no one should drive while under the influence—or HOP either.
He might’ve had a crash landing on his nose, or else crawled into the wrong frog hole and his wife would’ve divorced him.
So, she took care of him until he was able to hop away happily and without staggering.
He must’ve told his neighbors, though, because we were plagued with frogs the next summer. And Poppa must’ve heard him telling his friends ’cause he very conveniently hid the CHEER!!