Jessica vs. Bob the Frog (Details)

When I say I did a little screaming/shrieking/talking to Bob, it went something more like this (with a touch of whining):

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM? Ok… I really would prefer not to crush your guts all over the carpet. So get the F*** out! NONONONO don’t go over there! Where did you go, Bob? WHERE THE F*** DID YOU GO?! Oh crap I lost him. Now what do I do? Ughhh I hate nature! Maybe I should keep him… he probably eats bugs. But what if he jumps onto my bed net in the middle of the night?! Or worse, what if I mess up the net and he jumps on ME? Ew. Ok, BOB, GET OUT! Move move move! Why won’t you move? I don’t want to touch you. AHHHH don’t jump on me! GET THE F*** out! Ugh where’s a stork when you need it to eat frogs. OUT OUT OUT. GET OUT! Ew I’m getting frog-ness all over my spatula. Gross. AHHH GET OUT. DON’T JUMP IN MY PURSE! Ew. Out Out Out. Oh phew… you’re out the door. BYE!”

In other words, if there had been someone standing outside my room or if the guard understood more English, it would have been fairly embarrassing. If it had been a spider or a large bug, at least I would have crushed it. But it was cute Bob… so what else could I do but scream and shoo?

An update on the bathroom situation: I’m getting much better at using pit latrines. By the time I leave, I’ll be a pro.