Bull Rattlefrog
There are snakes and there are rattlesnakes. There are frogs and there are rattlefrogs. When the kids were very young they invariably woke up long before Marguerite and I wanted to wake up on Sunday mornings. They stole into our room and crawled into bed with us. We talked, tickled, told stories with kids as the heroes, and sometimes all fell back to sleep if we managed to rub all three backs at once. But sometimes a plague of rattlefrogs beset us.
1986 or so to around 2000
Rattlefrogs are creatures that look like hands, with all the fingers pressed together straight and slightly curved so that the thumb makes the bottom jaw of the rattlefrog, and the four fingers are its upper jaw. It can only be found in our bed, typically on lazy Sunday mornings. It is a pretty nice creature and generally minds its own business.
But there are those times when it becomes quite vicious and even bites if provoked. The best way to provoke a rattlefrog, especially a big bull rattlefrog, is to come running into our room, jump on our bed and wake us up. The rattlefrog rattles its warning by shaking its head violently and making rattling sounds much like that of a rattlesnake.
If the rattling warning does not stop the aberrant behavior of the interlopers so that they calm down and snuggle quietly in the bed, then, sadly, the rattlefrog will strike the interlopers. The strikes can be quite savage and are almost always targeted at the victim’s side or belly. It hangs on to the victim while continuing to shake its head. The victim squeals and wriggles, begging for mercy, but once the rattlefrog has struck, it is merciless.
The bite of the rattlefrog is, thankfully, not fatal. But it often leaves the victim lying in the bed, an exhausted, panting, giggling blob. It is terrible to behold. But even more terrible than the exhausted blob is that on occasion the bite of the rattlefrog can be contagious so that small baby rattlefrogs sprout from the victims – this is the way rattlefrogs reproduce. Soon, up to six baby rattlefrogs are bouncing all over the bed, on Marguerite, me and the kids – a regular epidemic of bothersome, quarrelsome baby rattlefrogs. Something has to be done.
Once the bull rattlefrog – the originator of the rattlefrog infestation – realizes there is a noisy, quarrelsome epidemic of his offspring he – yes, this is the gruesome part – eats his baby rattlefrogs. He is quick and merciful though, consuming them in one big bite, eating each one until only the mommy and daddy rattlefrogs remain.
With no more babies in their nest, the mommy and daddy rattlefrogs try to go back to sleep. But inevitably, one of the victims soon sprouts a new baby rattlefrog, and then another and another, until there are six new cantankerous baby rattlefrogs to deal with. Yep, baby rattlefrogs are highly infectious; once you got them there really is no getting rid of them, but then again, why would you? You just want them to be quiet from time to time, especially on lazy Sunday mornings.