Mary Wade hates frogs. That character point stems directly from the author of Rescued Hearts.
When I was in high school, the dreaded science fair project came around every year. I hated them. I never could think of a cool project like hydroponics (Susan!) or making lye soap (Chloe!), so I ended up showing water waves in a pie plate one year. Seriously.
One year, I thought I had a winner. I was going to inseminate frog eggs artificially and grow tadpoles in my house. The teacher added a friend (Sara!) to the ill-conceived project.
I had to order a pregnant frog and a male frog (or maybe just the semen. I don’t know if that’s even possible) from Carolina Biological Supply. Yes, really. Then I was supposed to squeeze the eggs out of the frog. Again, yes, really.
I don’t remember what I was supposed to do with the male frog or maybe I’ve just blocked it out.
Two scenes with the female frog are still clear in my mind, however. One, she’s laying unconscious, or so I thought, in my palm after I squeezed and squeezed and squeezed to get out those eggs. Two, she’s hiding somewhere in my parents’ kitchen after she fooled me and flopped off of my palm.
I was traumatized. You may think I’m over-reacting. You are wrong. Frogs still creep me out to the point that I couldn’t make myself include a picture of one in this post.
I did, however, find a picture I’ll accept.
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