Or A Spy in the House of Toad
Four years ago, my bathroom was occupied for a while with a tiny green frog. He was a welcome guest during my morning ablutions.
Last night the noise from our pond was cacophonous with the sound of frogs, toads, and insects, since it has been a decently wet spring, and this morning I spotted what looked like a gray tree frog in the kitchen sink.
I photographed it and went about my business, but as I kissed my wife and left the house, it had disappeared.