A Memorial for Perry the African Frog

This summer we took a long trip back to the midwest while a young couple stayed in our home. When we returned our aquatic frog (which I was the ONLY mom of 20 others dumb enough to say "yes" to taking home after their school science lesson on tadpoles was concluded 2 years ago) was missing. We concluded he had died and since there were no remains the aquatic snail must have ate him.

My middle son was VERY upset. Even though he hardly remembered to feed Perry, and couldn't ever play with him, this was a devasting turn of events. So my oldest who is big on empathy quickly organized a memorial service for the frog. The headstone was lovingly inscribed with Perry's vital information should anyone centuries from now look under our lilac bush and wonder what frog was once buried there.

The order of events I was given went like this:

After I played a solemn tune on my guitar, Thing 1 gave a speech:

And an acrostic poem was shared by Thing 2:

And then the empty casket burial was held under the lilac bush. My husband had to direct events because I was having serious problems keeping in my laughter tears. Finally, Thing 3 was assigned these announcements:

And we all shuffled inside for snacks and a prayer. 

And that was that. Or so we thought. Two weeks later Thing 3 brought me a rubber frog he found under the sectional sofa. It was only after I was holding it in my BARE HANDS I realized it was Perry's mummified remains.

There were more tears and a second burial. We concluded he died happy on one last great adventure from the second story down to the main level. And now my middle son has replaced this pet with two furry rodents that can live outside the water...rats! Yes, rats. I DON'T believe it either, but there it is. I seriously could not dream up this life but here I am in the midst of it just trying to love my way through it the best I can. And embracing every adventure my Things bring my way...