It’s 3:08 Thursday morning. I was woken to the crooning of a bullfrog again. He lives in the little canal outside our bedroom window. My brain immediately shuffled songs and spit out Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog. I only sang two verses before I realized that Jeremiah could actually be Jeri-Maya. Why did I assume it was a male frog? Maybe it was his deep voice.
This thought pattern then led to forms where you have to check off Male, Female or Other. I’d prefer Unknown rather than Other. You can’t check that without an explanation; otherwise, I imagine person with a goat torso. Especially at 3 am!
But I digress. My next thought was if Jeremiah really is Jerri-Maya, who is home with the baby tadpoles? I understand needing a night out, but as my mother always said, “Anne, nothing good happens after midnight!”
And then I realized I am awake wondering if Jeri-Maya is an unfit mother. Suddenly I heard a soprano croaking. It must be my imagination. Maybe he has a back up singer. This is what happens when my brain is more awake than I am.
But since I’m half awake now, let’s think about Bob. I’m helping a gentleman get settled in his apartment at a retirement home. I’m mentally paging through Best Buy’s catalog to find him a 60” TV stand. He’ll need nightstands too. The toad is still croaking. so I mentally go to Rooms To Go’s catalogue. After all, now I’m really awake.
Again, I digress. The baby tadpoles have me concerned. I can’t remember what I learned in sixth grade about them. I am so sorry I dissected their great, great, grand father or grand mom. Do they stay with the parents or jet right out on their own as infant frogs? And when does a frog become a toad? Is there like a bar mitzvah right of passage for them? I can’t be losing sleep over these minor details. They can wait until morning.
Wait! I have the best news ever. My bedroom clock didn’t get turned back an hour. I have another full hour for 3 am thoughts. Let’s look at Home Good’s catalog.