In celebration of spring, an incredibly generous fellow teacher offered to steal some tiny tadpoles from her sister in order to give them to our classroom, and as we’re still recovering from the loss of Lucy The Hamster, we were thrilled.  (Also, it spares us having to buy another hamster, so that’s pretty great.)

In preparation for the arrival of the tads, we asked the children in our class to predict what the “baby frogs” would look like and where they might live in nature and what they might eat.

Most of the kids drew tiny little frogs, with small little legs, hiding in grass or on lily pads, eating rose petals and leaves.

One child, however, wove a very detailed and extremely awesome yarn about where our froglets are coming from:


The frogs, it seems, are coming from a hotel where there are no frogs allowed.  NO FROGS ALLOWED, you guys.  The frogs spend their days in hiding in the hotel lawns, trying to escape the wrath of policemen and a man named Cam (?), who hate frogs and want them to leave and/or die.  The frogs have grown angry and have taken over a room in the hotel, a room that is used exclusively for the eating of police officers.  Cam lives in the hotel too, but as far as we can tell, he doesn’t do much.  He just hates frogs.  He has no job because he is lazy.

Have I mentioned before how much I love my job?

Because I love my job.


One thought on “Frogger.


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