The stuff of urban legends...

So this morning, just as Brett is about to walk out the door, I tell Makena it's time to go tee-tee on the potty. Her response is a bit unusual, but since she's prone to coming up with various reasons why she can't (read: doesn't want to) go to the potty, when she said "I can't tee-tee in here, there's a frog in the potty!" we didn't believe her. Then when Reese went into the bathroom to investigate she squealed "there's an animal in here!". That was reason enough for us to go check. Sure enough, this is what we found:Odd.
Makena decided to flush him. Frogs have apparently evolved enough to develop flush-avoidance techniques. Charles Darwin would be floored.
Brett and I looked at each other. He was getting a look on his face that said "I'm on the clock now and Bank of America doesn't pay me to fish frogs out of toilets" so I cut him off by reminding him that "this was in your vows, remember? Love, honor, cherish, kill all spiders and remove all extraneous wildlife from the home". I won.
Armed with a slotted spoon, strainer and plastic plate (anyone want to come over for dinner?), Brett added "Frog Removal" to his ever-growing list of household accomplishments.
The frog (who desperately needs a name at this point) was released back into his natural front-yard environment. PETA would be pleased.