Monday morning started with a bang, or should I say, a hop. Barely awake and going about my morning routine, I was startled to notice (insert high-pitched shriek, here) that I was not alone in the bathroom. Alongside the toilet, hopping along was a smallish toad. For those of you who have not visited us, I should mention that we live on the third floor of a concrete high-rise apartment, increasing the strangeness of this appearance. It is very difficult to imagine how a toad would have gotten into our apartment. Did he take the elevator? Open the door? Come up through the drain? I soon realized that the most likely transportation method was one of our bags that we had brought home from the camping trip.
But forget the cause for a moment, and lets return to me and the toad in the bathroom. After finding a paper wine bag that seemed an appropriate toad transporter, I crawled around after the toad, trying in vain to convince him that I would be taking him to a safe place. Hearing me cajoling the toad, "Stop it, come on now, stop it," Jared mistakenly thought I was calling the toad "Thomas," so that became his name. Although this post could go on much longer than necessary, lets just say that little Thomas did not go easily into his new home at the golf course but that he is now a city toad, rather than a country toad.
"But what type of toad?" you might ask. Well here are the most likely suspects:
Karoo Toad Raucus Toad
Leopard Toad
Feel free to contribute your identification suggestions and queries for the story rights to the childrens' book my way.