My Mother the Froggy Assassin

Gravel crunching underneath, we drove up the long driveway that led to my parent's house. We were about a half an hour late, which for me, in the long run, is about par for course for family visits. In the short run, though, I have really been trying to be better about being more punctual, so I was a bit grumpy on the way there, crunching my fists up against the steering wheel and making faces. Corb tried to raise my spirits by playing on his iPhone old clips of Toontses, the cat who thought he could drive a car.

As we made our way out the car and to the front door, I noticed an aquarium, resting by the lamp post in the front of the yard. I wondered what was up, but I didn't get to think about it much, because soon enough, there was my mother, greeting us at the door. We all gathered around her to shower her with kisses and greetings...hmmm, that sounds like something out of Little Women, for some reason. I guess I'm just a frustrated Jo, when you get right down to it.

"Oh, I have to show you something," Mom said, pointing to the aquarium in the grass. "I found the cutest little frog in the front lawn this morning, so I put it into an aquarium, to show to the kids."

We all moved back to the lamp post, to take a look.

Corb stared down into the tank, and wrinkled his nose at the small and shriveled animal that lay, lifeless, at the bottom. "I think you cooked froggy," he observed.

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