Brady & a frog
I woke up this morning from a vivid dream:
Gundi and I wanted to take our grandson Brady for a walk. We left the house, which was like our home on Fallsview in Dundas and went outside, which was like the waterfront at
Port Alberni. As Brady
was walking ahead of us, he suddenly turned into a frog. We couldn’t believe
it. Before we knew it, he hopped off and disappeared. As we were scratching our
heads, wondering what to do, Andrea, Brady’s mother, came out and said: “We’ve
been looking out of the window and we’re worried about Brady. Where is he?”
“You won’t believe it, but he turned into a frog!”, I blurted.
We finally found a smaller frog, and wondered if this was Brady. We weren’t sure. We coaxed him back to the house. As he hopped up the step, we asked hopefully: “You ARE Brady, aren’t you?”, at which point Brady re-appeared, disappointed to be called back from play so soon. “You shouldn’t have called my name”, he said. Les, Brady’s Dad, came out and asked what was going on. “You won’t believe it, but…”
The morals of the story are: Kids will be kids, or frogs. But all is well that ends well.
I hope Andrea is not still mad at us.