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I was lying in bed, reading, when I heard what sounded like my husband screaming in the driveway.

"ARGHHHHHH!"

The front door opened, and George came sprinting into the bedroom.

"Do I have any frogs on me?" he asked, turning one way and then the other.

"Um, no."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. There are no frogs on you."

"They were attacking me," he explained.

"I don't normally think of frogs as being particularly aggressive."

"They were jumping on me from all different directions. One landed on my shoulder, and another on my back, and they were clinging to me. It was disgusting. Hey . . . stop laughing! It's not funny!"

Well. It is a little funny.

Posted 25 August 2004 at 11:20 AM