Kermit

I have an admirer – or a stalker. I haven’t yet decided.

He’s seen me naked in the shower,

seen parts of me that will remain nameless,

and has woken me up with a thump.

Apparently it really isn’t easy being green.

People say I should kiss him, and see if he turns into a prince. But I already have my prince. Don’t need another.

I took extreme measures the other night, when yet again, Aston alerted me to the fact that Kermit was breast stroking in my toilet. I wet my hands, and picked him out of the toilet (yeh, I know, revolting. Don’t worry, I disinfected my hands afterwards!) and, instead of putting him outside my bedroom into the back yard, which is what I have done in the past, I re-located him to a tree (he IS a tree frog after all!!) in the front yard. Less than half an hour later we found him, outside my bedroom sliding door. In the back yard. 

So, yeh, maybe I have decided. He’s a stalker. A green stalker.