Dear Cutie Pie and Lovie Pie:

When you came to us, you were such wee things, petite enough to fit in the palm of our hands (were we inclined to pick you up, you giant wiggling bags of ooze).

Now you've gone and grown legs and arms. You looked cute for approximately 20 minutes and then I remembered that I had to clean your cage and now I have to feed you small legged creatures like crickets or mealworms.

And look, I kind of loathe you.

Were I in a habitat that supports bullfrogs, I'd gladly have let you go at the small man-made lake up the street where you immediately would likely have become heron food. However, I have come to learn that bullfrogs are an invasive species in Colorado and there is a fine for setting you free here. And then winter came and I'm pretty sure there's a karmic fine for setting you free in the garage just to see if you'll "hibernate" and take a trip to Tahiti.

So you sat in the basement, stinking, for two solid weeks - and then it occurred to me - why not let the children love you?

And they do so love you. They love you every day for 10 minutes. They love you so much they've renamed you "Mr. William Carlos Williams" and "Mr. Robert Frost." They love you so much, my son holds Mr. William Carlos Williams on her back and strokes her belly and my daughter holds Mr. Robert Frost and pets her head, sometimes accidentally touching her eyes.

And look: If you can survive this, I promise, I'll take you to Omaha and set you free to meet the local wildlife where you are *not* an invasive species. You need only bear the child-love for five more months.