Some of you may know that I don't particularly care for frogs. It's a long story that involves me blaming my mother for my psychosis. I will tell you though that when I say "don't particularly care for frogs", what I mean is "if I saw one in a dark alley (or on a sunny sidewalk for that matter) I would run screaming the other way." I have found this fear to be neither irrational nor debilitating...until Tuesday. Hollis and I headed out with our playgroup friends to the Atlanta Botanical Garden. First stop, The Children's Garden, home to a large frog pond. Upon approach, I informed Hollis in no uncertain terms that if he got too close and fell into the pond he was on his own. Fortunately, he has the attention span of, well, a three year old boy, so we were quickly on the move. Disaster averted. After spending the rest of the morning laying in the sand and jumping in the fountain, we ate lunch and ventured over to the main part of the garden. It is lovely and serene and on an August afternoon, about 48 bajillion degrees. We eventually ended up in the greenhouse (not any cooler, by the way) and their rain forest exhibit. As we meandered through the tropical plants I happened to notice a small sign stuck in the ground, "Warning: Frog Habitat". If there were any other words of warning posted, they were drowned out by the voice in my head shouting "Forget the kid, save yourself." However, I am a loving mother so I did not leave him to fend for himself among the frogs. I decided we would move quickly through the area and out the door while I looked straight ahead so as not to make contact with their beady little eyes. As we rounded the corner, right there in the middle of the walkway, 5 (or more, who knows) huge, ugly...Birds. Freaked me right the hell out. Now I am not really "afraid" of birds, but I prefer that they not get to close to me. So I grabbed Hollis by the arm and hightailed it out of there before we had anymore run-ins with nature. We finished up our visit, outside, and headed home with a quick stop off at the gift shop. I let Hollis have his choice of small $1 animals. This is what he choose:
His name is Hoppy and I am sure he is plotting someway to get me in my sleep.