A few weeks ago I had one of those Saturdays. You know the one that when you’re in the middle of it you’re all, WTF does this shit ever happen to anyone else?

It started out simply enough I went to the local Lowes to get myself some pretty new flowers for the front flower bed. A1 was having a garden tour at the house so we were due to be invaded by a plethora of old people who were going to be wandering around my house being all judgy and such. I found several pretty flowers, some potting soil and new pots for the front porch, loaded them up in the car and headed to the house.

I’m about halfway home, crusing down the highway at a comfortable 75 mph and the next thing I know, something large and wet jumped from my backseat and landed on my arm. ON MY ARM. So I did what any other person who’s just been assaulted by something large and wet unexpectedly would do and I freaked the fuck out. I was screaming like a 12 year old who just saw that Justin Beiber kid and started swerving all over the highway. I look at my arm, and there’s a frog, a FROG sitting on my arm, looking back at me. Apparently the high pitched screaming didn’t really do much for the frog so it jumped from my arm to my dashboard and stared at me like WTH lady you’re a million times bigger than me please chill the fuck out.

So now I’m on the highway, still doing 75, staring at a frog who’s sitting on my dashboard staring at me. That’s when I decide you know what, I need to call my mom, cause she’s not gonna believe this shit. Mom answers on the second ring and I say to her “I almost just died in a horrible fiery crash on the highway cause there’s a frog loose in my car!”. She doesn’t quite understand what I’m saying cause I’m still a little 12 year old girl so asks me to repeat myself cause all she got was fiery car crash. So I start to tell her again, in a calmer voice, when the fucking frog leaps from the dashboard onto my shoulder freaking me the fuck out all over again. At this point my mom’s yelling back at me cause I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m being killed.

The frog then jumps from my shoulder back to the car door. I’m now off the highway and able to tell my mother in a clear and calm voice that there’s a friggen frog loose in my car. In all her proper britishness she says “Are you sure it’s a frog and not a toad?” This leads to a two minute debate about how she’s pretty sure it can’t be a frog it must be a toad and i’m telling her, nope it’s most defenitely a frog, I am aware of the differences between the two.

I get home, walk into the house and look at A1 and say there’s a friggen frog loose in my car. This seems to not phase him at all, like this is the kind of thing that happens all the time to people, completely normal. I grab a flashlight and head out to the car to try to track this thing down while he waves to me from the couch. out in the driveway I open all the car doors and the trunk and I’m looking everywhere for the damn frog. While i’m doing this SisterDear calls, she’s just moved into our neighborhood and is literally one street over and she’s wants to know what I’m doing. So I tell her, yeah I’m looking for a frog that is loose somewhere in my car. Her only response is “I’ll be right there”. Two minutes later she has arrived and now she and I both are trying to find this freaking frog who has vanished into thin air.

After 15 minutes of hunting we can find the frog nowhere. I assume, or hope at least that the little fucker jumped out one of the open doors so we give up. She goes home and I go to plant my new flowers. As I’m taking one of the flowers out of it’s lowes pot to seperate it out my hand hits something wet. Yup the frog has returned to it’s flower pot and it’s sitting there, watching me again. It hopped into the front garden, and I’ve not seen it since, but one thing I have learned from this is that I will now check all flowers prior to loading them into my car for unexpected wildlife.