Ariana has been quite the entomologist this last week or so. She had a nice grasshopper last week, some slugs, and a mayfly. Last night she brought home a frog. Yes, I said a frog. Or a toad, I'm not up on the differences.
It was this little tiny thing. She found it at the park and brought it home in her hat. She was being so gentle with it and wanted to keep it for-e-ver. She whined that froggie needed to sleep in the bed with her, and dad had quite the small battle getting it on the dresser. (Don't worry, it was in a bug house.)
Well, this morning she awoke and found froggie dried up and on his back. The tears ensued. Sigh. Last week it was tears over the grasshopper that died. Of course, he died when her foot stepped on him.
We talked about how frogs need water to survive and she says her next frog will have to be kept in the pool in the back yard. Great.