As a prologue, realize that the following events happened after a medical procedure that left me somewhat spacey. Or, as Larry would say: even spacier than normal.
Arriving home, I went to my bathroom to pencil on eyebrows for no other reason than I don’t feel like me without them. Plus I look kind of scary. I keep my makeup tools in a wooden cigar box that opens out “saloon door-wise” and when I couldn’t find the cap for the liner, I stooped down and looked under the lid of the box.
Something looked back at me.
I stood up and paused. Then I paused some more.
Then I bent down and looked again. Yep. Those were definitely eyes staring back at me.
Admittedly I had just been in Anesthesia La-La Land, but I'm pretty sure Sephora eye shadow doesn't come with its own bulging eyeballs.
It wasn’t a lizard, anole or gecko—all creepy, crawly things that have ended up in our house. This was a frog...or a toad. I wasn’t about to linger and debate its taxonomy because Florida has common Southern Toads but it also has the invasive and toxic Cane Toads. Here’s what Google says about them:
Cane Toad toxin can irritate your skin and eyes. If your pet bites or swallows a Cane Toad, it will become sick and may die -- take it to the vet right away! Symptoms of Cane Toad poisoning in pets include excessive drooling and extremely red gums, head-shaking, crying, loss of coordination, and sometimes convulsions.
I’m pretty sure Larry would bolt if I started excessively drooling.
Speaking of, my husband had gone for a walk after sitting for hours in the waiting room so I couldn’t turn to him for help. Feeling tired and a bit dizzy, I left Mr. Toad to have his way with my night creams and went to bed.
When I awoke at 5:00 A.M and stumbled into the bathroom, there was Mr. Toad, lounging around inside my toilet. He looked so contented that I was tempted to bring him a fru-fru drink.You know, the ones with a paper umbrella. But instead I did something kind of cruel.
(Oh, don’t look so shocked. He’s an amphibian. He can handle it.)
No. I didn’t flush him. Instead I shook peacefully sleeping Larry awake at 5:02 AM, citing Marital Contract, Section 375.A9 in which he is the official “Remover of All Things Creepy and Crawly.”
Then I made him de-toad my toilet.
(I can’t believe I just wrote “de-toad my toilet.”)
PS: I’m keeping an eye on Larry for signs of “head-shaking, crying, loss of coordination, and sometimes convulsions.” Of course, if he's watching "Dancing with the Stars" how will I know the difference?
Arriving home, I went to my bathroom to pencil on eyebrows for no other reason than I don’t feel like me without them. Plus I look kind of scary. I keep my makeup tools in a wooden cigar box that opens out “saloon door-wise” and when I couldn’t find the cap for the liner, I stooped down and looked under the lid of the box.
Something looked back at me.
I stood up and paused. Then I paused some more.
Then I bent down and looked again. Yep. Those were definitely eyes staring back at me.
Admittedly I had just been in Anesthesia La-La Land, but I'm pretty sure Sephora eye shadow doesn't come with its own bulging eyeballs.
It wasn’t a lizard, anole or gecko—all creepy, crawly things that have ended up in our house. This was a frog...or a toad. I wasn’t about to linger and debate its taxonomy because Florida has common Southern Toads but it also has the invasive and toxic Cane Toads. Here’s what Google says about them:
Cane Toad toxin can irritate your skin and eyes. If your pet bites or swallows a Cane Toad, it will become sick and may die -- take it to the vet right away! Symptoms of Cane Toad poisoning in pets include excessive drooling and extremely red gums, head-shaking, crying, loss of coordination, and sometimes convulsions.
I’m pretty sure Larry would bolt if I started excessively drooling.
Speaking of, my husband had gone for a walk after sitting for hours in the waiting room so I couldn’t turn to him for help. Feeling tired and a bit dizzy, I left Mr. Toad to have his way with my night creams and went to bed.
When I awoke at 5:00 A.M and stumbled into the bathroom, there was Mr. Toad, lounging around inside my toilet. He looked so contented that I was tempted to bring him a fru-fru drink.You know, the ones with a paper umbrella. But instead I did something kind of cruel.
(Oh, don’t look so shocked. He’s an amphibian. He can handle it.)
No. I didn’t flush him. Instead I shook peacefully sleeping Larry awake at 5:02 AM, citing Marital Contract, Section 375.A9 in which he is the official “Remover of All Things Creepy and Crawly.”
Then I made him de-toad my toilet.
(I can’t believe I just wrote “de-toad my toilet.”)
PS: I’m keeping an eye on Larry for signs of “head-shaking, crying, loss of coordination, and sometimes convulsions.” Of course, if he's watching "Dancing with the Stars" how will I know the difference?