Look closely inside the circle.
It's a frog.
A small, noisy, creepy frog.
In my scrap space.
Did I mention I don't like frogs?
So this morning (think wee hours...maybe 2 am when it was quiet) I was peain' and scrappin' when I heard something ker-plop onto the floor. Simultaneously, a movement on the floor caught my eye.
I'm getting the creepy-chills just writing about it.
It's a tiny (yet massively creepy) frog.
On *my* floor.
I do not want to think about how he got in or if he brought his family too.
Anyway, after a few moments of "should I wake my sleeping husband because this is too dang creepy for me", I decided to let sleeping husbands lie. I summoned some courage, dumped the contents of the ribbon jar on the table and contained him in the jar. (See the photo.)
Slid the canvas under.
Took a photo. (well, duh.)
Transported the intruder to the yard.
Creep factor is still off the charts!
Not in my house!
Go. little froggie.
Tell all your friends.
This house is *not* the place to visit.