Life's Little Details: Knitting, Sewing, Green Living, Frugal Living and Cooking In A Little Corner of Southern French Countryside.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Froggy Went A-Huntin'

Frog On Window
Originally uploaded by Sheepish.
I've learned three things tonight while finishing up the second sleeve of my bamboo shirt.

1) You don't need tv for good entertainment.
2) I need a pet frog to keep the kitchen clear of the icky moths that love to plant their nasty, wormy offspring in any and all carbohydrates on the shelves.
3) I never want to have to eat at this guy's favorite restaurant. Why? You know I'm going to tell you...

First, the wait is ridiculous. He showed up here by at least noon just to hang around till the nighttime meal.

Second, the service in this place sucks. There's no waiter who saunters over and casually asks him for his order with a thick French accent ("Yes, I'd like the live moth platter - hold the wings, please. They make me gassy.")

Imagine, if you will, your favorite restaurant - let's say McDonald's (I know, it's a stretch to call it a restaurant. Work with me on this. I'm telling a story here). So, there's no counter for you to order your food from a smiling, if somewhat acne-ridden teenager. Instead, you are seated on a perch with only a limited amount of space to maneuver. Stepping off your perch could mean a deadly splat reminiscent of the Atari game Frogger (my favorite, by the way).

Dangling from strings above you is your dinner. But, there's a catch. It's attached to a mechanism that draws it near to tease you but always keeps it fluttering just out of your reach. Much patience and concentration is necessary to capture even one burnt french fry (never mind the ketchup). And, to make matters worse, apparently, you're not even equipped with the handy-dandy whip-tongue that would make this chore much simpler. You have to actually use the suckers on your toes to hang on to the perch while attempting to grab the fry with your mouth.

Yeah, I think I'll pass on that and move along to a different joint. How about you?

The little guy in the picture, though, seems not to mind so much. But, seriously, he's pretty smart to know that he needs to hang out here till dark, when the lights will be on and the feast may begin. My husband pointed out his intelligence to me, claiming that this must be the reason the French are often referred to as Frogs. But, we all know it's just because seeing this guy makes him lick his chops and plan his next meal.