Everyone has their own little neurosis that they are forced to deal with in their daily lives. I happen to have more than most but the fact that most people can relate to at least one of them gives me the justification to avoid spending thousands on psychotherapy.
That being said, one particular...let's call it a quirk, is that I absolutely hate to use a toilet that hasn’t been flushed by the previous resident that had squatted on the throne. I also won’t leave the kids off at any pool that is not my own but that is neither here nor there. As a matter of fact, it is always here and never there.
But I digress.
Being that I refuse to plant my patookie on a bowl containing anything but clean water, I am inclined to look before setting my fat ass down.
Which is what I did last night in my own home.
I have never been quite so glad I had this particular habit until I took my usual quick glance in and saw something that seemed to move under the toilet seat.
I gasped, jumped back and what the fucked in that order.
Fortunately, I no longer had to go because I had peed my pants.
I took a deep breath and stepped back to see what could have crawled on my ass, up my ass or around my ass if I had not looked.
As I peered in, breath held, I saw that there was a fucking frog in my toilet.
Yes, you read that right. A frog.
Quickly a slammed the lid shut and rested my ass on my cushy toilet seat cover to prevent its escape.
Now I too have read that frogs can turn into princes with a kiss but I wasn’t the least bit interested in having Prince Charming anywhere near this particular throne at the moment not to mention where those lips have just been.
I racked my brain for some kind of solution to the problem.
Frog in the toilet….frog in the toilet…..frog in the toilet.
I had nuttin.
I didn’t want to try to flush it down…one it was a cute little froggy and two, I have heard they have enough problems just being green.
However, if I ever wanted to use the master bathroom bowl ever again, something would have to be done.
I have to say even the most annoying of men can come in handy for unexpected circumstances….like frogs perched under toilet seats. SCM being available quickly came to my aid.
As I bit my knuckle, he opened the lid like it was an every day occurrence. Apparently Kermit didn’t think so because he used all the strength in those little froggy hind legs to propel himself out of the toilet and onto the curtains across the room.
I screamed a scream that any director would have been proud to use in the worst of slasher movies.
SCM calmly went to the curtain,,picked the thing up bare fucking handed and walked it outside to live in peace and harmony in its little froggy world.
I plan to suffer from post traumatic stress syndrome for years to come.