So here's the story. So, see we have this big puddle at the end of our driveway and one day a frog was jumping along and said, "Ooh, that seems like a nice puddle for me to live in." So he jumps in and lives his little life in there. Then a day or two later, a bored, study-tired girl happens to scare him when she passes by and she hears him splash into the puddle. She looks for him, but he has hidden well. A few hours later, two pairs of small feet run to the puddle talking excitedly about a frog. The poor frog's next hour is spent avoiding being whipped by a jump rope and landed on by either feet or buckets. That evening the feet return and the frog is spotted and after many splashes and squeals, caught. Not sure how, but it was caught. He was scooped into a pail of water and the pail is then dumped into a wheebarrow. Mr. Frog is a prisoner. Only now he's not Mr. Frog. No, his name is now George. A pal of George's is spotted now and the two pairs of small feet are in a dilemma. This new frog must be captured, but George is trying to jump to freedom. The answer comes to them: the smallest member of the family should babysit. They arm him with a pail and bubble wand and set off on their hunt. And so begins Minte's first babysitting job.
Min takes his job seriously.
His favorite part? Poking George.
And as long as George keeps his distance and does not try any hops his way, Minte is a happy, torture-loving babysitter.
Moral of Story: Stay away from Vander Hart pond.
And don't call Minte with a babysitting job.
1 comment:
Poor George! Look at Min's face. He was having fun. Too cute.
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