toads

A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing.

Somewhere along the line one of the boys must have taken an interest in toads, and probably learned a thing or two about what they eat, what they look like and what they're named.

The only trouble is that the information doesn't always pass correctly down the brotherly line.

Boy #3 loves toads. Whenever he finds one in the garden, in the flower bed or in the sandbox, he wants to keep it as a pet. I've caught him burying a poor toad in the sand because he thinks it will be cooler there. I've found a desperate toad treading for its life in a five-gallon bucket of water - the theory of a four-year-old being that the toad might get thirsty. This child will pick up any toad any where, or chase it around the yard calling, "Here toady, toady."

Apparently one of his older brothers told him what kind of toads are around here - only he mixed it up slightly. This morning in the garden I overheard him tell his little brother that his new friend was a "horny toad."

If it was a male the description would be accurate, even if the name wasn't quite.