Mississippi Moment

I am communing with Nature again, but this time it is not snakes but frogs. Outside my kitchen window we have thick bushes and shrubs; it's where Buddy, our black lab, likes to hunker down in the dirt and stay cool. At night, attracted to our kitchen lights, all kinds of creatures gather, mostly insects of various types, but lizards and frogs as well. In August in Mississippi you hear the frogs; their chorus of croaking surrounds you as you drive into your driveway or take the garbage cans to the street in the evening. It's rare to actually see them, unless its splattered on the road, an unfortunate accident for many a frog crossing a street in our neighborhood. At our window, however, a couple of frogs have appeared regularly, one big, one small, and I am absolutely convinced that it is a father and son. Dad's teaching Junior the finer art of catch and grab. I can just hear him saying: "Son, be patient," or "Like this, Junior--just stay still and then make the leap." Lately the Browns have been greatly entertained by the show, which recently took a humorous turn last night. Junior appeared at the window sill looking straight into the kitchen at me so I decided to speak directly to him: '"How are you this evening?" "Going to eat?" "You sure do look handsome tonight." What do you say to a frog? Anyway, I think he enjoyed the conversation because he started opening his mouth right back at me and taking his froggy feet back and forth over his froggy head. Now, I am not familiar with frog mating rituals, but I think this frog was flirting with me. I know; it's pathetic, but I have recently entered that wondeful new phase of feminine life (Thanks, Emily, for the CD of Menopause the Musical) and have not been feeling too attractive lately. I will take any kind of attention, even from the green, bug-eyed froggy variety. Thanks, Kermit.