It was cold and wet for the 5 days I was visiting my parents. I had packed one “warm outfit” and I got sick of wearing it…every day…along with my Mom’s hoodie! But the sun broke through one evening around meal time and the temperature rose long enough for us to eat outside. That’s when we met Zuma.
Zuma and his friends serenaded nightly by the edge of my parents’ pool…and sometimes in the afternoon too (the naughty creatures). Zuma was snoozing in the reclining lawn chair – I wonder if he imbibed too much chlorine the night before, trying to impress his lady friends, and woke up in this strange place.
Most of the tree frogs I’ve seen are brown, but Zuma was a lovely bright green.
After awhile, Zuma worked his way to the floorboards and tried to squeeze himself down a crack between the boards, head first. He succeeded in making a fool of himself, legs flailing hopelessly in the air. My Dad sat closer to try to take his picture while in this ridiculous pose. Humiliated, Zuma crawled under Dad’s boot to hide. Now you can see how tiny he really is…
My Dad, the gentle giant, sat there patiently for a very long time, waiting for Zuma to move on. But he didn’t. So I rescued both of them…with a Tim Horton’s teahouse.
Zuma found his way back to his brat pack, regaled them with his harrowing experience, and sang away the night:
“Hello, my baby – Hello, my honey
Hello my ragtime gal
Send me a kiss by wire
Baby, my heart’s on fire”