One afternoon while we were living at Grandma Mary and Grandpa Tim's place and the Hermunslie cousins were visiting, the girls came screaming into the house. They had caught a toad
and they were mighty excited.
We were impressed.
Once they had him in their clutches, they tortured, I mean took care of him,
with baths
and sand
and lots of smothering,
life-threatening (for the toad) attention.
Too much good intentioned attention.
Joey followed in their path playing with their sand and water
but not with the toad, or Toady as they affectionately called him.
They wouldn't let him out of their clutches. At least not until bedtime when we forced them to free Toady. At that point there were many sad girls and one happy, barely breathing Toady.
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