Moses and Daniel

Toads.

We have two.

The Rock Star named them Moses and Daniel. Moses is appropriate given the whole plague of frogs thing. And Daniel, apparently, is Garrett's favorite character in the Bible. Well, next to Jesus but even Garrett had the good sense not to name a toad after our Savior.

It all started when toads showed up at Troy's softball game, courtesy of a couple from our church who now live in Wyoming. Apparently they have an infestation of toads. They're home for a visit and they brought a bunch of these creatures back with them. At one point during the game, my son came to me with big, bright, eyes. "Tyler says I can take them home!"

Sweet, adorable boy who once occupied my womb, say what?

Oh yeah. I heard him right.

When the game was over I talked to Troy. You know, figuring that he would say no. He told me it was up to me. No. It was up to him. No. It was up to me. You see where this was going. Our major concern was that we're leaving soon for a road trip. Garrett's solution to this, "They can sit next to me in the car!"

"How will we get them home tonight?"

His answer, "I can put them in my pockets!"

I looked at my friend, Abi. "It's become evident to me that I'm raising one of the Little Rascals."

Troy and I went back and forth. I finally broke the news to my precious son, the one I was now imagining in overalls with no shirt, a toad in his pocket and a club house with a He Man Woman Haters sign on the door. "No." I whispered gently.

I expected a fit. He didn't throw a tantrum. Instead, his eyes welled up with tears, his spirit fell and his lower lip began to quiver and I realized that this was one of those "pick your battles" moments. I could crush him and possibly deal a blow that he would remember into adulthood. "Once, when I was four, my mom wouldn't let me have toads." Or I could acquiesce.

I struck a compromise. We'll own pet toads for approximately two weeks. The plan, after that, is to release them into our garden.

Moses and Daniel are currently living in our butterfly habitat (boy has that thing come in handy!) where they've consumed crickets, sat in a dish of water, and played hide and seek in the weeds. Occasionally we get them out and let them hop around--being sure, of course, to keep them away from our cat because I really don't want amphibian carnage strewn about.

It really is another opportunity for my sons to see God's creations up close. It's also another opportunity for me to realize, as I'm grabbing crickets with my bare hands and getting urinated on by toads, that I should have seen my all boy world coming. I should have seen it coming from a mile away.