“He who sits in the heavens shall laugh;”

Psalm 2:4

First of all, may I just say that I am the designated “bug killa” in our household. And no, this is not just because I am now a single mom and therefore the bk by default. Even before my divorce a few years back, I handled all the critters. Spiders, bees, “dirt dobbers,” mice, and snakes. Yes, I said snakes people. Hissss!  I just ask that you keep that in mind while reading the rest of this post…

Beep. Beep. Beep… Ehhh, how is it 6 am again – already? My feet touch the floor as I begin the morning shuffle down the hallway. Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I stumble into the bathroom – blind as a bat (for my contacts still lay like little tadpoles, resting in their saline pools). I yawn. I stretch. I lower myself onto the commode (relax, this isn’t goin’ where you think). Suddenly, my senses are jarred. Something damp brushes my skin. A fuzzy flash of mottled browngreen comes flying up, flying out… from between my 6am, blind-as-a-bat, in a very vulnerable position – legs. Rrrribit. Rrrrribit. The slimy, toilet-dwelling interloper mocks me. It is then that it registers, fully sinking into my muddled mind. A toad. A sneaky, dirty, peedy, potty toad… touched my tush. Let the Darby O’Gil banshee wail commence.

Proof

 

 

Well, I for one know God definitely has a great sense of humor. Besides, I always suspected toads grew in toilets, not ponds. Any other funny (or not so funny at 6 in the morning with blurred vision) critter stories out there? Do tell…

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