“Mommy! Mommy!” the little red-headed girl shouted as she crashed the back door open into the house.

“Hannah?!! What is it?” her mother cried out, storming into living room. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” said Hannah.

The mother’s expressions instantly changed from concern to annoyance. “What have I told you about coming into the house covered in mud?” she said, pointing an oven mitt at her.

“But I have something to show you!” Hannah insisted.

“What?” her mother asked.

The little girl smiled and extended out her arms. She was holding something in her hands. The mother frowned and put on her glasses that usually rested on the top of her head. She leaned down and looked at what her daughter was holding. She screamed. “Why did you bring a frog into the house?!?!? I hate frogs!!!”

Hannah laughed. “He said you have to kiss him.”

“I will do no such thing!” her mother squealed. “Now get that thing out of the house this instant! Then get your bucket inside this house and into the tub. You’re filthy!”

“But mommy...!”

“You do what I say right now or there will be hell to pay when your father gets home!”

Hannah furled her brow and was confused. “Mommy?”

“What?”

“Where is daddy?” Hannah asked.

“At his mother’s,” the woman droned.

“Who?” the little girl asked.

“Your grandmother’s,” she snapped.

“Oh, I don’t like her,” Hannah said.

“Neither do I. She’s a real b---“ She stopped herself from saying it. The woman took a deep breath and then said, “Witch.”

Hannah looked up at her mother and did not understand.

“Now take that thing outside and get into the tub,” her mother demanded, storming off into the kitchen.

Hannah looked down at the frog that she had cupped in her hands. The frog looked back up at her. The critter said, “Do what your mother tells you. Maybe she’ll kiss me tomorrow.”