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Most nights, we take a walk around our neighborhood. Nicholas likes to go see his "friends" - the stone goose next door, a couple of cats, the kids around the corner. And a little frog that sits among some potted plants on a porch along our route. Its owners are often outside, and they're always happy to see Nicholas coming. They are delighted he's adopted their frog, and they invited him to name it (so far, he's only offered the rather unimaginative "Frog").

Last week, we were out walking and Nicholas went to say hi to the frog. Instead of his usual hug and kiss, he picked it up. And dropped it. And broke it. So we rang the doorbell. He apologized, we apologized, we offered to replace it. They insisted it was no problem; their main concern was that this little event not discourage us from visiting again.

After a few days out of town, we resumed our nightly ritual last night. And found this, stuck to the top of the frog, who was sporting a Band-Aid over his little broken foot:

"

I have mentioned it before, but I think I have the best neighbors ever. Tonight Froggy is going to receive a get-well-soon card from his friend Nicholas.