Brave, bound and determined.
An overdue apology to my littlest on her birthday.
Poor little girl; yesterday, she caught a toad and was forced to let it go.
The toad was the size of her two cupped hands, fat and slow. Easy to catch. Her mother and sister squealed in disgust.
“Let it go!” screamed her sister – from a safe distance
“Wash your hands!” commanded Mother.
Later, they asked her if she kissed the toad. “Why would I do that?” she asked, confused. They giggled like a pair of playground bullies.
Papa was away that night, but he would have understood. He would have praised her for her bravery and stealthy speed.
She acted on instinct, without hesitation. Papa would have appreciated that. His voice would have been filled with pride. He would have let her bring it home.
Together, they could have inspected the toad under the kitchen light – counted its warts, and inspected its toothless grin. She could have known and named her conquest.
Papa would have mirrored her curiosity. He could have answered all her questions and explained the stream of warm liquid that her new friend dribbled down the front of her shirt. Instead, she suffered squeals and admonishments in the wake of a street lamp.
Poor little girl; how unfair it is to be raised by a squeamish sister and mother when you are brave, bound and determined.
With apologies, so much pride, and joy!
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Our favorite wild kratt!
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