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A Trinket to Treasure

August 14, 2013

I was standing at the kitchen counter, about to put another pot of coffee on for our guests when I noticed a small porcelain frog sitting on top of Jim’s thermos on the counter next to the sink, the sunlight reflecting off its back. This was the cutest little green frog…very realistic. A very talented artist had captured its character perfectly. It was well proportioned and the colors were precise. So lifelike!

My heart melted and a little tear formed in the corner of my eye. ‘Aw,‘ I thought, ‘Jim did it again.’ He’d brought me another little trinket just to let me know he was thinking about me. I was so touched.

My husband didn’t always open doors for me or step back and allow me to walk ahead of him at church; that wasn’t his style. Instead, from time to time; he’d bring me a little gift ‘just because.’ Sometimes it was a knicknack or maybe a brownie from the local bakery. Once he brought me a handmade letter opener that I still use nearly every day.

He’s really sweet when he gives me these little gifts. With a flourish of his arm, and a little ‘Ta-da,‘ then presents me with the gifts of food…sometimes even bowing from the waist if it‘s something really special.

He leaves the little knicknacks somewhere that I’m sure to notice. Usually someplace obvious like on the counter or on the end table next to my recliner. He learned early on not to put them somewhere discreet and wait for me to find them while I was dusting the furniture; that would take a while.

On that July day we were celebrating Jim’s birthday. He’d put that cute little frog on top of his thermos in front of the window because he knew I’d see it there during the course of the day.

I’d been busy making potato salad and hamburger patties for the party. I baked his birthday cake yesterday and decorated it this morning. It was sitting on the table waiting to be served.

This small gesture was so like Jimbo. He could be so sweet!

This was a beautiful day…perfect for a picnic in the yard with friends. I could hear the laughter coming from the yard. Jim has a knack for story-telling and he was regaling his guests with one of his hunting stories. Jason and Brendon, his son and grandson as well as hunting partners, confirmed the details of his tale.

After I finished setting up the coffee, I slowly reached for the frog figurine, the love I felt for my husband blooming within me.

I knew just where I would put this little figurine…on the shelf in the bathroom. There was a perfect spot right in the center.

‘YIKES!’ I screamed as I jumped back several feet. My heart lodged itself in my throat while simultaneously trying desperately to hammer its way out of my chest from between my ribs.

That blasted thing was real…and not nearly as cute as the figurine! It had jumped from its perch atop the thermos to the edge of the counter, then took a flying leap across the kitchen floor and kept right on hopping toward the living room.

By that time several people burst through the door in a rush to come to my rescue. Most thought I’d had some sort of a kitchen accident; a cut finger or a burn on my hand.

Absolutely no one imagined I’d been startled by a little green tree frog. A spider maybe, but certainly not a frog. How did a tree frog even get into the house in the first place?

Someone offered me a chair, which I graciously accepted. Another handed me a glass of water while still others went in pursuit of the tiny amphibian.

Once I’d settled down, we resumed the party. I picked up where I’d left off…grilling burgers and brats while others pitched in and carried paper plates, napkins, ketchup and mustard out to the table. When the meat was cooked, the salads and watermelon were brought outside and we ate our meal.

The frog, however, was not apprehended.

Two days later, I was headed upstairs with an armload of clean laundry when I glanced at the wall next to the door. And what did I see?

The tree frog…sitting stock still on the wall beneath the coat rack.

This time, I maintained my composure…I set the laundry down and retrieved a tin can and a piece of thin cardboard from the trash. I quickly covered the little bugger with that can. Then I slid the cardboard between the can and the wall, effectively trapping the frog inside the can.

Soon, both he and I were considerably happier; he was out of my house and back on his own turf.

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3 Comments
  1. Diane permalink

    Well done

  2. Glad you didn’t croak from fright!!!

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