Ribbitophobia

If there is one important thing to know about me, it's that I hate frogs. And I'm not sure the word hate is even sufficient. It might be more fitting to use loathe entirely.

In fact, frogs are pretty much the only reason I would complain about summer. As soon as the warm weather is back, so are the ugly little demons. They love the humid weather, and, unfortunately, we get that a lot here. So, every year, I have mentally have to prepare myself for the possibility of having an encounter with a hopping catastrophe.

It's still spring, and it's already happened. The other night, I was walking to my car, and there was a frog perched up next to the side of a building. I had to walk on the sidewalk right by it, and I suddenly froze. What was I supposed to do?! I quickly started seeking what my options were and measuring what move to make next. I could go around the other side of the building. Wait, the other side was grass only, no sidewalk, where I would surely find more frogs waiting for me. This little curse on humanity was trying to set me up! OK, I could veer my path as far as possible on the sidewalk and maybe get by him with no disasters. I took this option and sprinted to my car as soon as I hit the pavement of the parking lot. Whew, I was still alive!

You might be wondering why I have a fear of something that tries to appear so innocent. I'm not sure I can explain it with simple logic. It goes far back to when I was a small child. I can't pinpoint the exact moment I had my first frightening run in with a frog, but I know I avoided them at all costs. Then came the nightmare.

I was playing in my street with the neighborhood kids when there was suddenly a gigantic frog in the alley across the way. Everyone abandoned me, and the Humungous Hopper swallowed me whole. I was living inside a giant frog! Then I woke up. Ever since, it's been one of those recurring nightmares that you can't cure, and you never know when it's going to invade your slumber.

And frogs are the only thing I can't tolerate or from which I will run as if my life depended on escaping from a scene in less than four seconds. Snakes? No problem. Bugs? Don't mind them at all? Vicious dogs? Who cares? It's only frogs (and I guess toads...but am I concerned enough to try to distinguish between the two? Definitely not.) that cause me such horror.

The worst time I ever had a frog attack me was when I worked the opening shift of a recreation center. I had always been paranoid of frogs near the door when I walked up to it, but you can't even begin to imagine how quickly my heart stopped when I walked in to find myself staring death in the face—there was a frog in the building! It was 4:30 in the morning, and I was all by myself. I thought about calling my parents, but decided not to wake them up. Besides, it probably would have ended me before they could get there. I even considered turning around and just not working that day, but I knew that I had a responsibility to this job, and I wasn't going to let myself be weak enough to give into my fear that much. I left it in the lobby until one of the lifeguards, Lifeguard Steve (who obviously became my hero that day), got it out of the building completely.

I've had a few encounters with frogs in my lifetime, but I generally find ways to evade them at all costs. I guess everyone has his or her own weird thing, and this is simply one of mine. So, if you're ever near me when a frog is on the prowl, please be aware that you might have to save me in that moment.