HATE frogs. Unfortunately when I started saying "oh gross, get that away from me!" or whatever I squealed, BigBoy did too. Until that moment he was happy with his "Froggy" but I had to go and put my irrational fear on him. As soon as he did this I knew what I had to do. I grabbed the jar and said "No, Sweetie, you just surprised me. Wow, look at that great frog, etc." We took it over to show the neighbor kids who were playing in the cul de sac. They weren't as impressed as we thought they would be. :) The rest of the evening I had to put on a happy face with Froggy and try my hardest to make sure BigBoy wasn't scared when in reality I wanted to cry and puke. Yes, I know that makes me the biggest baby in the world but I HATE HATE HATE frogs!!! At least my maternal instincts took over and kept me from scarring my child.
BigBoy with his weed-eater helping us. He's actually a really good helper. After we sweep the grass along the sidewalk and driveway into piles, he gets the little brush and dust pan and takes it to the pile on the road. Very efficiently, too.
BabyCakes was supervising. She had just woken up from her long afternoon nap and then ate "dinner" so she was content to just chill and keep and eye on us. :)