Toad tales

I dont like toads. I dont mean it to sound personal... but hey, Mr Toad, i'm sorry that my immediate reaction upon seeing your toadiness is to jump 3 feet into the air and then another 3 feet away from wherever you are "squatting".

Today was the first day that i attempted washing the drain. Erm, no, not washing exactly, more like sweeping water along the drain. Ah, that sounds much more like it. Trying to get some of the mouldy stuff off the bottom as Dad hosed water down towards the bigger longkang that the small drain led to, outside the house gate. Innocently swoosh, swoosh, swoosh... Everything was swept down, from leaves, to Sandy's leftovers, grass, mould, bits of coconut husks.. Until one of the chunks of husks flowed down a little slower than the other bits i was sweeping. It took 3 seconds to realise that the whitish hue of one of it's sides, was actually the pale underbelly of a toad. I was giving a toad the sweeping of it's life! I jumped and yelled "Daddyyyyyyyyyyy! It's a toad!!" I expected him to say "Haiyah, just a toad" Instead, Dad pulled a face, saying "Eh, i dont like them very much myself!" I wanted to laugh. Little did i know that we share the same dread of toads. Toads have never done anything to harm me, yes, they always stare back at me with a halo around their little heads. But i've always had this fear that being so small and squishy, i'd accidentally squash one of them one day and have their innards outside their skin instead of inside. Eek...

Mr Toad, why do you have to be so fragile?

Taken today, out of boredom in the car...