Clark got a toy frog from his Grandpa this weekend. It’s one of those gummy, stretchy kind of toys that is perfect for a boy with an overactive and slightly destructive imagination. He stretches the arms and legs out as far as they go, flips it around several times, then releases it to watch it spin itself back to original position. This is, of course, more fun with sound effects of what a frog would sound like if it were forced to ride the Vomit Comet at the local amusement park.
Unfortunately, Clark and said frog were a little careless in their adventures this morning. He thought it would be funny to wind up the frog and then put it on Natalie’s head. The result:
That thing was all wound up and twisted in and out of Natalie’s locks. After much apologetic wailing by Clark, it was determined that drastic measures must be taken. I amputated the frog’s arm.
The rest of the arm was stretched out and twisted a hundred different ways in Natalie’s hair. I would free one small section at a time, and then surgically remove it. Final results:
Dr. Oz and Sanjay Gupta have got nothing on me. I am mother. Hear me roar.