“When should one kiss a frog,” you might be inclined to ask? Of course, very few people ever would (be apt to ask that) but there could be a moment, while sitting on your porch, sipping a third glass of your grandaddy’s finest vintage hooch that you might.
And I would answer, should you have asked my opinion, “never.” But, if you absolutely, completely, positively felt you needed to kiss a frog, then it would be imperative to find the cleanest, most good looking one (and one most likely to turn into a prince) and, of course, to be dressed as a princess – or as close to one as possible.
Yesterday afternoon I went to assist on a shoot of my “twin” in her graduation gown. Lo and behold, we ran into her cousins at the park we had chosen. The eldest, noting how much like a princess she looked, offered to find her a frog from a nearby swamp to kiss.
Of course, being the lover of all things wild that he is, he duly found one, caught it, and presented it to her. Practically before I had time to fish my camera from my bag my demure young model was lining up the slimy creature for a kiss. She, who won’t let foreign foods or candy that has rolled out of the bag and touched the counter top for five seconds touch her lips, was preparing herself for the ultimate in fairytale happy endings.
On her first attempt the modest frog was having nothing of it and got its webbed toes in-between her puckered lips and its tightly-pursed trap. He almost wriggled free but she got him back in position. The second time the light wasn’t quite right for the shot and so we asked her to kiss it again. Alas, there was no third-time lucky and, despite succeeding with the most-perfect smooch in the history of human-amphibian smooches, a dapper prince did not miraculously materialise.
A fun blog post did though.