Froggie

Shopping with a 2 year old often equals grocery runs without milk and bras bought
at Costco (you have to break them in but they work). A recent trip to the garden
center was no different. It started out fun with W charming the staff but quickly
devolved in to looks of terror when he realized that all there was at this ‘store’ was
flowers and empty watering cans. So I left him in the cart digging in a tomato plant
(impulse buy) while I browsed perennials. The previously friendly garden center
lady seemed deeply perturbed by my parenting style. So, I quickly bought 100
dollars of flowers that are now drying up, unplanted on my lawn. Her look prompted
me to let W free from the cart. A few minutes (seconds?) later he was back with his
newfound buddy, “froggy” the garden ornament. I thought, “great froggy thanks
for buying me 3 minutes to make a decision”. Then I heard the distinct sound of
something I didn’t yet own (and didn’t want to own) breaking. Fucking Froggy.
Turns out he was a delicate frog made of some Parisian glass or something. Really
guys, a breakable on the ground.... Really!?
And of course heads turned as I solemnly put Froggy in the cart and that is how I
ended up with this footless gem in my garden.

-Tightrope Mama