~ from Jill

I spent the weekend glued to the television set, watching the coverage on New Orleans. Once I started, I couldn’t stop, overwhelmed with frustration for the people who were stranded.

Sunday afternoon my husband intervened, and shut off the news (to my protests). He insisted we needed to do something else .. so we made popcorn, and watched a movie with our kids. Then they went to bed, and I sat to watch the news some more. It started to storm, and suddenly, both boys ran out in long white t-shirts, and yelled for me to come see the rains.

“Why?” I’d seen rain before, couldn’t they see I was busy?

“You’ve got to come,” Brandon said, “ it looks like the fake rain you see in movies!”

“Please --” begged Riley.

I couldn’t resist, and followed them: “Sit here,” they instructed, and made a place in front of the window.

It was the kind of rain that looked like someone stood on top of our house pouring it from a bucket. “See!” they exclaimed. I saw.

A huge toad hopped in front of our tree, and in the eerie moonlight, we watched him breathing and bulging. Then he moved, jumping from a puddle under the rope swing to the grass. We all shrieked in delight.

“I think he’s gonna move again!” Riley yelled, and really, there was nothing more exciting I could imagine.

“Run and get Daddy!” Brandon ran into the kitchen and shouted for him. Meanwhile, the toad turned to look at us straight-on.

Steve came in reluctantly, asking what the big deal was . . then got quiet, whistled, and said “that is one big toad!”

The toad jumped three times, glub, glub, glub -- then sprung back into the bushes. We thought the show was over, but another, smaller toad hopped out. “It’s his brother!” Riley screamed, and we watched him for awhile.

Eventually, the boys scrambled back to bed, enchanted. I hoped as I flicked on the television set, that their dreams would be full of rain-soaked grass, and a night full of toads, all of them hopping and splashing out a song.