We have nothing to fear but . . . frogs.

I normally embrace the change of all seasons.  I get tired of the monotony, tired of keeping my arms and legs covered, tired of keeping my limbs uncovered, tired of warming/cooling the house and car.  You know.  You might be the same way.

I looked at the weather forecast and thought, "It's spring.  Finally!  The weather is going to stay warm all week and we can do fun stuff and go outside!  It'll be awesome!  I can open the windows!  I can plant a garden and go to the park.  Yay!"  Exclamation points galore! 

I opened my windows last week, thinking my sweet and stumpy escape artist of a youngest child was still too short to reach them.  Ten minutes later, she had knocked the screen out and I was catching her by her ankle as she attempted to jump out of the window into the sandbox so she could play "si-side" with her sister.  Now they're open just a crack.

I saw the pine pollen covering everything in sight and sighed, thinking it wouldn't be so bad.  I still get my warm weather, so I don't mind so much.  It'll be worth it.  I never minded it when I was younger.  I used to call it my protective layer and refused to wash my vehicles for several years.  Now it turns me into a hacking, coughing, bleary-eyed mess.

I ventured outside after dark tonight, forgetting my fears for a minute there.  I had a laptop, reusable grocery bag with about 10 pounds of food, and a baby in hand.  Freaking frogs.  Everywhere.  Frogs croaking.  Frogs jumping, frogs hopping.  Frogs just sitting there and looking at me.  Don't look at me, you froggy freaks with your creepy frog eyes.  Stupid frog faces.  I saw this lumpy thing, looking like conjoined froggy twins, glancing around and rocking there.  Muthascrappacrimetycrap.  Craptacular little amphibious frog farts.  I ran back to my parents' house, which was locked by then, banged on the door, and got back inside.  Tucked my pants into my shoes so the little froggy buggers couldn't hitch a ride up my pants legs.  Handed off the baby.  Placed my laptop with the groceries and went into survival mode, swinging a broomstick.

I turned on the porch light and went out the door, armed with a bag of groceries and a broom.  I got closer to the evil conjoined twinny frog monster and saw that it was two frogs doing the deed.  Making more frogs.  The thought of frogs mating is even more terrifying.  The female bullfrog can lay 20,000 eggs at a time.  Just the thought of twenty thousand tiny terrifying things, leaping about with their frog legs and squishy parts and those eyes and long sticky tongues.  It's enough to make me go into a cold sweat.  I gave my battle cry, swung the broom while slowly lurching across the yard, threw the bag into the hatchback, and peered around to find more of the jumping maniacs.  I swung some more with my broom and used my best ninja moves to make it to the driver seat, then stood on top of it to scan for more of the bouncing bow legged beasts.  I surrendered my weapon to my heroic mother, who was amazed at my bravery (or possibly wondering how I have made it this long without being institutionalized) buckled in the youngest of my offspring.

All of this to say screw spring.  You can keep those jumping cold blooded strange legged bug eyed beasts.  I can deal with the pollen, but you can take those morphing amphibious critters.

Don't reason with me.  I don't fear snakes or spiders or bugs or dogs or anything you consider normal.  I don't like being startled and I freaking hate frogs.  You can't reason with a frog.  They're evil.  Nothing cute about those jumpy transformative suzzabeezus.