Hoppy Joe

last night, whilst winding down in front of the TV with my housemates, out of the corner of my eye i felt the gaze of an onlooker and heard myself mutter the words "frog. there's a bloody frog in the house" quite calmly, before being overcome by some kind of teenage flappy panic. housemates also did a little bit of a flappy panic, before calming down and endeavouring to catch the little fellow. he had a good old hop around, under the sofa, behind the tv, before they eventually caught him in a tupperware box and returned him to the bottom of the garden.

here he is. is suspect that he just wandered in when the back door was open. but in the colourful corner of my imagination, he was there to avenge the death of hoppy joe, whom i lawnmowered quite accidentally a few weeks back. (excuse the photo, it's through tupperware)

I remained stood on my chair like some kind of idiot until he was out of the door. i did not realise until then that i have inherited my mother's fear of frogs.