“What the hell is that racket?” Darian groused from his prone position on the couch.
“The phrogs,” Andrea replied, pronouncing it “puh-frogs.”
“What? You mean frogs?” Darian asked.
“No, I mean phrogs. The noisy ones around the pond right now,” Andrea said looking up from her crocheting with a small smile.
Continue reading “Frogs and Coffee”