That Flying Sucker Frog Again

We had gone back to Venezuela. We were having so many problems with everything. Nothing worked and I hated it! This was one day in 1994, not too long after we arrived. I wrote this story while I was waiting for the frog to leave.

THE RETURN OF THE FLYING SUCKER FROG

A flying sucker frog on the back gate! How in the world am I going to get that gate unlocked so I can pick up 500 rotten mangos? I have a decision to make. Do I risk the frog flying at me or do I leave the mangos and fight the flies and ants? This is a major decision!!

I need to do the laundry, but the washer and dryer are on the patio-just a few feet from the frog. What if he decides to leap at me because I am disturbing his sleep. Is it worth it to sneak onto the patio and risk my life to put clothes in a dryer with a door that needs to be taped shut in order to dry my clothes? The washer will make a lot of noise and, perhaps, wake my friend and cause him to leap at me. Guess I have enough clean clothes to last until he decides he wants to leave us. I don't know though, he looks to be settled in for the rest of the century.

But, then there is the water! My bottled water is on the patio. Yeah, just a few feet from my friend, the frog. Do I dare to risk it? The tap water couldn't be that bad. Well, that is, if you could get the faucet to turn on. Wonder if the frog had anything to do with that? Maybe he wants me on the patio - that's why the dryer door clip the repairman brought me won't work. The frog wants me out there. Perhaps I could go out the front door - now what good would that do me? My water and dryer are on the patio. I wish I had taken survival training. Is it twenty-four hours or twenty-four days that a person can go without water? As my Mother looks down from Heaven, what would she say if I had an accident and didn't have on clean underwear?

And my broom! And my mop! How am I going to get them. My arms aren't long enough to reach them from the doorway or the window. Couldn't reach them through the window even if my arms were long enough. The window is made of four-inch glass panes and they won't open anyway - they are supposed to though.

What about my salt? I was going to put it on the patio to dry out. Well, I guess if the rest of the people here can live with wet salt, so can I.

Maybe I can throw something at him. But what if I actually hit him and he squirted all over the patio?

He's in the wrong place! It's not me he came to terrorize. He remembers a day twenty-five years ago when my husband distrubed him in a little bathroom over a Chinese restaurant in a small town not too far from here. He has come back for revenge. How do I let him know that my husband is a few miles away from here and that I would be delighted to show him the way?

Every once in a while he moves. His positions take on meaning. What meaning? Attack now or later? Am I to live as a prisoner in this house?

What if something goes wrong with the water pump that is on the patio? Well, I already know how long I can live without water - or do I?

The trash needs to be put out. Why did I decide to leave those bags on the back patio anyway? Trash pickup is out front. Without a garbage disposal, you can imagine what the trash will smell like in a couple of days. It will be interesting to see how long I can hold my breath at one time. Wish I had taken survival training. Well, the smell of rotten mangos and garbage can't be that bad, can it? There is a difference between garbage and trash, you know. What I have is garbage!

I wonder how he flys. Is he stuck like glue? Is he waiting until 500 more mangos drop and rot? How do I let him know that if he will just leave and give me a forwarding address, I will send the mangos to him?

Night falls and the laundry is not done and I have discovered that I can go a full day without water. The grit and dirt on the floors seem to add a "lived in" look to the house. I have twenty-four pairs of underwear and I know he can't last twenty-four days without food or water. All I have to do is wait him out. I have a television that I can't understand, newspapers that I can't read - what more do I need?

So, Mr. Flying, Sucking Frog - stay there! You don't know who you're messing with. I am a hard-headed, stubborn woman from Texas with German ancestors.