, , , , ,

“John Bridge. Is that a frog in your hand?”


“Dude. I can see something in your hand. I wasn’t born yesterday”

“Born yesterday? But you old!”

“Dude. Seriously. What’s in your hand?? Is it a frog?!”


“Ugh. Fine. Just give it to me.”

(at some point I have GOT to learn not to blindly ask for what ever is in their hand)

Have I mentioned how much I love this kid? Cause I do. A lot.

But there are things about him that I don’t love.

His interest in bugs and frogs for one. I get the whole “let boys be boys” thing and for the most part I do that.

I just feel like I have to draw the line somewhere, and today, it has been drawn.


“But it’s just a widdle fwog weg.”


“We don’t say ohmygosh mom.”

“We do when you hand me a frog leg!”

A frog leg.

Not attached to a body. At all. Just the leg.


Out of all the things I’ve been handed since I became a mom, I really think this one was the worst. (and that includes things from the diaper)

There is something about knowing that you are holding something that used to be attached to a living thing not 2 minutes ago. I know, I know. People eat these things all the time. And it’s not that big of a deal.

But it was to me. And I’ve learned my lesson.

Never, EVER blindly take something from a Tidwell kid.