The Great Frog Incident

I unwrapped a frog yesterday morning.  It lived in a plant that was delivered to the flower shop.  After initial jumps (me) and shrieks (Claudia) we (actually, Claudia) captured it in a bucket that was "too tall for it to jump out of."  After the frog climbed to the top and perched on the edge of the bucket, we (me) taped a styrofoam plate over top of the bucket and punched holes in it with a pen. 

Then we (Claudia) made a call to the greenhouse to determine

A) Where the plant came from

B) Whether or not it was possible this could be a poisonous frog from some Tropical Someplace where they grow giant peace lilies and ship them to greenhouses in Middle America.

C) If, possibly the frog was some greenhouse employees pet and was horribly missed or supposed to have been frog-napped.

So.  When everything was answered to our (Claudia's) satisfaction, We talked about What To Do With It.  Claudia maintained that putting it outside was inhumane seeing as the poor thing would freeze to death.  I agreed, but refused to be responsible for our new "pet." 

Do frogs eat rose leaves?  'Cause that's what we (Claudia) fed it...

Finally I called my mom. 

Who came and picked up the frog, (bucket, taped on styrofoam plate and all).

Now the boys have a new science project:  Making An Environment For A Frog.