I Made Out With A Frog

Greenhorn Ranch | Quincy, CA

I’m sorry, in case that headline didn’t grab you, let me make sure I’m being as clear as possible:

I didn’t just “make out with a frog.” I made out with its butt.

With a frog butt.

I kissed a frog butt.

Like with my mouth.

I didn’t even get to the worst part yet. My son now wants a pet frog. But that’s still not the worst part. Because do you know what frogs eat? (I didn’t know either.)

The answer is maggots.

Here is how a frog race works, for those of you who find this subject of interest:

You locate a frog in a marsh and somehow catch it. I was not very successful at this part, but the teenagers staying at the ranch did things like jump fully clothed into ponds in the middle of the night in search of excellent racers, so I just borrowed one of theirs.
When it’s time for the race, you select your frog, and he gets placed into a bucket with a little water.
You put your hands over the top of the bucket so that if he jumps he does not escape. This part freaked me out really a lot, but my frog turned out to be either sedated or half-dead, so he did not jump.
Next, you take your frog out of the bucket. WITH YOUR HANDS. Except as it turns out, frogs are actually wayyyy less creepy to hold than you’d think: they’re actually pretty soft. And (almost) cute.
To make your frog move forward, you can employ several techniques, which include whacking the floor behind your frog, blowing on it, and – yes – kissing it. On its butt.
If you are me, and are trying to race a frog that could very generously be called “tranquil,” you require the assistance of not one, but two staff members to help you encourage said frog to move at all, much less in the direction of the finish line.

Obviously I came in last. But now I can officially say that I have made out with a frog (butt), so I suppose that’s something.