Prelude 51

“Granda, look!”

Granda looked for what seemed to be the hundredth time that morning. He'd forgotten how much attention little children demanded. Aaron was their only grandson, a scrawny six year old with a passion for collecting things. Usually if they were lucky, the object of his affection would be inanimate, but today this was not to be. Aaron proudly held out his clenched fist.

“I found something,” he beamed proudly.

“What is it, Aaron?” the old man asked.


“Is it, a … flower?”


“A pretty rock?”


“Perhaps a beetle?”

“No, look.”

He opened his hand to show a very unhappy looking frog.

“Ah, its a frog,” said Granda.

“No, its a princess. Do you want to kiss her?”

Granda didn't, but Aaron looked at him with such big, expectant eyes, that it seemed he had little choice, so he kissed it.

“Now what, Aaron? Will the frog turn into a princess?”

“No, silly,” replied Aaron with barely concealed glee, “its just a frog and you kissed it!” He scampered off to find Grandma to tell her all about the great trick he'd played on her long suffering husband.