A few weeks ago, Dr. Doctor and I went out to dinner. It was a delicious steak dinner, the kind of meal you want to Instagram or text message foodie friends. I didn’t do either because I’ve promised myself when I’m on a date, the phone is silenced and in the bottom of my purse. Besides, who the heck cares about my steak and baked potato. Anyhow, we were fully sated and on our way out to the car, it was a beautiful late summer dusk, warmish with a tiny bit of chill in the air:
“Watch your step, there’s a toad.”
“Oh cool! I love those toads, wait…can I touch it…is it a cane toad?” (I’ve heard we have a few of the poisonous toads in Colorado.)
“Not like in Australia. ”
“Good that means I could catch it! Look! Another one, I’m gonna catch it.” I bent down and reached for it but he jumped too quick. I am terrified of snakes but I love frogs, little lizards, and those big ugly toads. This was a smallish big ugly toad, with bumps on his back. But it jumped too fast and I was juggling my big purse so I missed my opportunity to catch it. Plus I sensed Dr. Doctor was a little afraid I would catch it. Then what was I going to do with it? We discussed just this the next night.
“I wish I caught that toad. I love them. I used to catch them when I was girl in Texas.”
“What would you have done with it if you caught it; it would have just peed on you and given you warts.” Oh my goodness, I can’t believe he tried to get me with that old wives tale.
I reached up with my hands clasped around an imaginary toad and wiggled it under his nose and he startled just like he would have it I had a real toad in hand. “I would have done this to scare you and then I would have laughed when you flinched.”
He waited a few beats to offer up his very sage and insightful observation:
“You girls from Texas are different.”
Which is all part of my charm.