I took as wide a berth as possible, side-stepping my way indoors and proceeded to hoover my heart out, delighting in the sound of dead cockroaches wrapped in cobwebs sucking their way to bug heaven. I was almost finished, the vacuum pipe flinging itself around with abandon, when out of the corner of my eye, a large green monster, acute angled legs and eyes bulging, leapt across my field of vision.
The vacuum cleaner hose took on a life of its own, whirling about before I managed to jab the off button and lunge myself through the nearest exit, where Kermit remained sitting on the back doorstep as if posing for a nude painting. I was confused.
A very calm husband, clearly in holiday mode, dropped his armful of bags to assist his damsel in distress. With a few heroic strides inside and me hesitantly tiptoeing behind, beds were pulled out from walls, bedding shaken and cupboards inspected, before coming to the conclusion that Kermit and Callista Croak had hopped their way to fresh air freedom.
That being said, I wasn't totally at ease, so thought it might be a good idea to head to the pub to calm my nerves. A few hours, a few drinkies and a tum full of pub food later, we wandered merrily back along the beach to home.
As we were about to turn the key in the lock, I threw in a throwaway remark, "Watch out for the frogs, they might be waiting". Chortle, chortle.
The key turned, followed by a grinning husband. "Yes, there they are."
I may have thought he was joking for a nano second, before taking a swift backwards lunge and whipping out my camera, just in case. For the next few minutes, I watched as two slimy leapers were herded back to their soggy froggy grass haven, before I headed happily inside to chill out with my feet up and out of reach of any creepy crawlies.
