Middle of the Night Something

Prologue:  This mommy does not do creepy crawlies.

Jump out of airplanes? Yes.

Half marathon? Yes.

Creepy Crawlies? No.  Goodness, No.  I mean, please, that’s why I got married.

And now for the rest of the story….

Woke up in the middle of the night last night.  I don’t know why I woke up, but I did.  I checked my watch – 3:45. “Oh ok.  That’s fine.”  Put my head back down on the pillow.  Thump. Thump. Pause. Thump.

Hmmm….what’s that noise?  eh, probably nothing.


Well it was something….maybe the dog.  Although I don’t know what she could be doing because it isn’t that loud.  huh.  Well I don’t hear it now. 

Thump. Thump.

Well I heard Something.  It doesn’t sound like the dog.  It doesn’t seem like it’s coming from the living room.  I don’t know where the noise is coming from.  Maybe I’ll just lay here and listen really hard to see if I can figure out where it is coming from.


hm. Well maybe it was…Thump. Thump. Nope.  Definitely something.  Not the dog.  I have no idea.  Maybe I’ll listen again.  If I hear it three times in a row, I will get up.  Otherwise, I don’t know.


Thump.  Pause.  Thump.

ok, that was Twice.  Thump.   Three times.

I don’t want to get up.  It’s probably nothing.  Thump. Thashea-ump.

Ok, I’m up. Glasses on.

I sat on the bed for a minute.  Just to get my bearing.  Yes, there was Something and it was in My room.  And it seemed to be behind the lamp next to my bed.   Thump.  Thump.

Ugh.  What is it???

My ideas included: A large moth (I sleep with the lamp on.), a mouse, a snake, or a something worse.  I didn’t want to root around behind the lamp.  So of course I’m texting my husband because I’m sure that he would like to know,  *There is something in my room.  Jumping behind the lamp.*  (No response.)

Then, I SAW something jump up for a second.

oh no, a Jumpy Something!  There is a Jumpy Something behind my lamp!  A Jumpy Something in My Room!

Not wanting to have something jump ON me, I stood on the edge of my bed, held on to the edge of the dresser and snapped a picture with my phone.


Yes there was SOMETHING.  Oh but what? I don’t know.  But it JUMPS.

I was trying to figure out how I was going to get to it without too much Contact on my part.  Then all of a sudden it appeared right next to the bed.

A Frog!  The Jumpy Something was a frog!  Or a toad….let’s not be technical.  I don’t care frog or toad.  It was not welcome in my room.  *There is a frog!* (No response.)

Ok, well at least it isn’t very big. whew.

Oh it just jumped under the bed. REALLY???  Now there is a Jumpy Something frog-toad Under My Bed!  As I mentally scream “SWEETHEART!!” I calmly text, *it just jumped under the bed* (No response.)

I do a quick scan of the room.  Shut the closet door.  I don’t want it jumping in there.  Scoop up a few clothes and toss them on the bed.  The whole time my mind is thinking “ew, ick, ew, ick, frog, ew, ick, toad, ickkkk!”

Now there is a Frog-Toad-Jumpy-Something out on the other side of the bed.  Horror of Horrors!! ARE THERE MORE THAN ONE?????

No, WHEW….he’s just a fast little booger.  I run to the kitchen and grab a plastic container.

And now Lou (the dog) follows me in the room with her sleepy saunter and stretch.  I-see-you’re-awake-do-you-need-my-company?

“No, Lou. Go. Go.”

Lou does not Go.

The floor is clear now, for the most part.  I have my container.  I am Armed.  I am Ready.

Froggy-Toady is out from under the bed. Thump. Thump. Lou sees Froggy-Toady too.  Oh-what-is-this? You-look-like-you-need-my-help. “No, Lou. Go.”  Lou does not Go.  But instead sits and waits.  Alert. Ready.  As Froggy-Toady Something jumps back under the bed.

We wait.

Thump. Out in the open!  Thump. Thump across the room.


As I let my heart flutter down from the excitement.  I snap a picture of my trapped Froggy-Toady.  Should I leave it there for Lizzie to see? Nope. No. Nope.  Can’t do it.  A picture is good.  I will tell her the story.


Now. How to get it outside?  I’ve watched Rich save me from countless spiders and his method is to trap with a container then slide a piece of paper under the container, flip it over and take it outside.  Yes, my sweet benevolent husband does not kill spiders.  He saves them. (Remember the snake)

So, I did not feel like a piece of paper was suitable for Froggy-Toady.  I wanted some cardboard or something more Secure. Think. Think. Think.

Ah Ha, I had a Priority Mail envelope in the office.  I slid it under.  Whew.  Froggy-Toady is on the envelope still under the container.  I Carefully pick it up and walk to the back door.

It’s locked.

Ahh, Forgot about this part.  I Usually open the door for Rich when he removes spiders.  UGH.

I try to unlock the door while holding Froggy-Toady-Container-Envelope.  My little mental alarms go off: BAD IDEA ALEXIA BAD IDEA!

I set Froggy-Toady-Container-Envelope down, unlock the door, and then scoop back up (carefully) and place on the patio.  I lift the container off and Froggy-Toady sits there. So I shake the envelope and it hops off and I scurry inside.

Whew.  Text *ok I took care of it* (Timestamp: 4:01)

Now how in the world am I supposed to go to bed after that?

I text Rich again. *sigh. I miss you.  This is not wife stuff.*

I mean I really hate this stuff.  Really Really Do.  I don’t do creepy crawlies.  I don’t! Jump out of airplanes? Yes.  Half Marathon? Yes.  Creepy Crawlies?  No.  Goodness, no.  I mean, please, that’s why I got married.

The End.

Epilogue: Shaking his head at me, Rich said “Dear. It was a frog.”  I said, You have no sympathy for me. “No.  Not for things that can’t hurt you.  I’m sure if I had been there, I would have been ripped from a perfectly good sleep to handle it.” Yes. Yes, you would have.



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