The next week the professor tried to put the Laughing Yoga Frog out of her mind.
Well, she kinda tried, but mostly she talked about the frog to her mother to her daughter to her students to her friends and imitated the pose the best she could much to their entertainment.
The professor was so enchanted by the memory of the Laughing Yoga Frog that she she googled it to see if she could sneak a peek at it online. She tried "Yoga Frog" and "Laughing Frog" and "Cracker Barrel Frog" and "Most Amazing Happy Frog Ever" but nothing she tried brought an image of anything that came close to the amazing Laughing Yoga Frog.
As life would have it, the next week she was hungry for eggs again and found herself at Cracker Barrel again.
The professor went straight to the section where the frog had been and there it was, still standing still and quiet in tree pose, still laughing, still balanced, still patiently waiting to picked up and brought home.
Its price had been slashed 30%.
The professor stood possessively in front of the discounted-frog for as long as she could, but when her name was called she raced right up to the front, hungry and thirsty and ready for eggs.
When she finished her meal the professor paid quickly and left the store racing past racks of books on tape and recipe books on things like how to use Coca-Cola in amazingly American dishes.
She didn't take a single last look at the frog, not a peek.
It's easier this way, she told herself, explaining to no one that she did NOT want to become someone who had frog statues in her front yard.
In her heart she wished the frog a great life and then kept going, as quickly as her cute Jessica Simpson nude colored patent leather pumps with peek-a-boo toes allowed her to move, past the row of old fashioned rocking chairs, past the oversized table with the oversized checkerboard, into her car and onto the highway.
Well, she kinda tried, but mostly she talked about the frog to her mother to her daughter to her students to her friends and imitated the pose the best she could much to their entertainment.
The professor was so enchanted by the memory of the Laughing Yoga Frog that she she googled it to see if she could sneak a peek at it online. She tried "Yoga Frog" and "Laughing Frog" and "Cracker Barrel Frog" and "Most Amazing Happy Frog Ever" but nothing she tried brought an image of anything that came close to the amazing Laughing Yoga Frog.
As life would have it, the next week she was hungry for eggs again and found herself at Cracker Barrel again.
The professor went straight to the section where the frog had been and there it was, still standing still and quiet in tree pose, still laughing, still balanced, still patiently waiting to picked up and brought home.
Its price had been slashed 30%.
The professor stood possessively in front of the discounted-frog for as long as she could, but when her name was called she raced right up to the front, hungry and thirsty and ready for eggs.
When she finished her meal the professor paid quickly and left the store racing past racks of books on tape and recipe books on things like how to use Coca-Cola in amazingly American dishes.
She didn't take a single last look at the frog, not a peek.
It's easier this way, she told herself, explaining to no one that she did NOT want to become someone who had frog statues in her front yard.
In her heart she wished the frog a great life and then kept going, as quickly as her cute Jessica Simpson nude colored patent leather pumps with peek-a-boo toes allowed her to move, past the row of old fashioned rocking chairs, past the oversized table with the oversized checkerboard, into her car and onto the highway.
