What a lovely day for a tea party. Not that kind, the other kind

"Daddy, can you take a walk with me?"  The two-year-old beckoned me away from keyboard.  It was of vital importance.  Where are we taking a walk to?  "To the kitchen table," she said in a tone akin to "where do you think we're going, you dope?  Move your butt!"  It was tea party time.  Awesome.

"Would you please get me a straw for my tea," the dame inquired.  Of course, and how about some apple slices to go with it?  "Oh, that's an absolutely idea!  That would be lovely."  Trying to avoid serving her a side of sliced finger with her gala apple, I began with the usual; how was she doing.  "Oh, I'm swell," she says, channeling an Our Gang episode she hasn't seen.

How was her teddy bear doing these days?  "She's good good good.  I sleep with her," the little princess exclaims, "then she goes rrrrooaarrr, and then she sleeps again.  Then, she goes to play with Goldilocks."  She doesn't eat Goldilocks, does she?  "Yes, she does!  And then she goes 'rrrrrrooooaarrrrr'", which I'm guessing happens to a lot of folks who eat Goldilocks.

"I hope my sister has a great day at school," she says sweetly of the older sibling she yelled bloody murder at three hours prior for getting in her face just after she awoke.  That's sweet of you, I tell her.  "Yes, and she's going to the classroom, and doing the ABC's and the numbers."  Yes, and hopefully not driving her teacher up the wall.  "Yes, she needs to drive the car down from the wall.  You don't drive the car up on the wall."  You do if you're stuck in the room with 18 seven-year-olds.

Remembering something I had read online, I rhetorically ask if Obama will be able to convince his fellow Democrats to go along with his deal to keep tax rates low.  "Yes, absolutely," the diaper-clad cable news expert intones.  Really, how do you know that, cutey-pie?  "Well, I think the hubris on display at his initial news conference, where he intoned disdain for both the Republicans with which he compromised and the Democrats who were critical of him for it showed a high level of immaturity.  But the president still has plenty of time to overcome the kerfuffle if he will show some humility and a return to the gravitas on display during the campaign."  Wait, what did you say?  "Oh, um, Daddy, can you wear the princess shoes and the tiara?"  Yes, yes I can.

"Mrroow?" the cat asks, stroking by on her way to the food bowl.  You know, cat, hey...sniff sniff.  Dang it, cat, when are going to learn that the floor on my side of the bed isn't your litter box.  "Meow?"  Yes, you.  I don't know why I talk to you.  "Neither do I, but if you had to squat on a pile of rocks to take a crap, you'd understand.  Ugh, the chafing, exacerbated by the fact that I have to use my tongue to clean it off.  Try taking sandpaper topped with millions of miniature thorns to your hiney, Dude!"  No, the cat did not just say that.  "Mrroww?"  Um, Princess, did the cat just say something.  "Yes, she said meeeeeeeeowwwww."  Okay, thought I was losing it.  Or rather, that I had lost it even more than in the previous paragraph.

"Okay," my Fancy Nancy clone says, "it's time to paint."  Imaginary paint, of course.  On our kitchen wall.  Which could desperately use some real paint to cover up all the scratches, but I resist the urge to give it to her.  What are you painting today?  "I'm painting a Charlie Brown Christmas."  And with that, the tea party ends.  A waste of an hour?  Not on your life.

And the final score, Cats 1, Green Tree Frog who got in the house 0

I'm Marlon Perkins. This is the American Green Tree Frog, also known as hyla cinerea. Hyla cinerea are found all throughout the Southern United States. They are distinguished from their cousin, the European tree frog, by their larger jowls, their penchant for deep fried crickets, and the European frog's desire to retire to the public dole almost immediately after birth. Today, we take a look at a subset of hyla cinerea found only in Effingham County, Georgia, the hyla methlabius, and this particular one is beginning an adventure inside someone's home.

This hyla methlabius starts to move around its unnatural habitat, perhaps in search of food, or at the very least a two-liter soda bottle and some Sudafed. So far, the search does not turn up any of the frog's typical cuisine, only a strangely shaped shell. Only when we move the camera back do we see the shell's true identity - it is indeed a naked Mr. Potato Head. The frog makes a mental note to use this as shelter if need be when he spots a much larger and more posh potential shelter. It is a huge two-story barn, complete with silo, apparently populated by a miniature plastic cow eating the plastic hay where a plastic chicken appeared to be attempting to lay, presumably, plastic eggs. Our froggy friend investigates his new animal mates, trying to determine why they are moving almost as slowly as the employees at the Rincon Burger King when....DANGER!

Stalking our amphibious visitor are, not one but two, ferocious calico cats, striking fear in the hearts of carpeting everywhere with their hairballs of doom! The calico cat is an expert stalker. An abysmal killer, but a fantastic stalker. Countless insects, dust bunnies, and stray Cheerios have been on the receiving end of the mighty blows of the felis catus, or the subspecies we observe in this particular house, the lumpus poopfloorus, and it looks as if our slightly slimy intruder might be next on their list. Well, the kid's chair is actually next for a claw sharpening session, and now it's on to the frog. While Jim holds down the feline known as "Chloe", eliciting a succession of "rah-ah-ah-ah" mew tones and minor scratches while attaching a tiny-claw camera to get close to the action, let me tell you about Mutual of Omaha...

....and now, back to the action.

The American tree frog is observing a fellow woodland creature, the rear end of a stuffed bear, unknowingly being watched by the cats. Well, unknowingly until "Doo-dee-doo-dee-doo doo doo, dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo doo doo", the toddler bus that never shuts off is accidentally brushed with a cat tail. Jim attempts to get a camera on the back of the frog to get the amphibical perspective, THWAP! BAM! BIFF! POW! An episode of Batman? No, cat paws left, right and center! Good thing Jim has that Mutual of Omaha policy.

The frog attempts to hop, but as soon as he lands, SMACK, a right from Chloe's ample sister, Zoe. The frog hops, BAM, a left from Chloe. The frog gets two hops when, SLURP, a thorny cat tongue attack. At this point, we feel it is our duty to attempt to rescue the frog and return it to a more natural habitat, the trash can outside. We retrieve a paper towel, but just before we get to the frog, CHOMP, a bite from Zoe, who someday hopes to be Andrew Zimmern's mascot on the "Bizarre Foods" show. The frog, who had done a remarkable Chuck Wepner impression up until now, is no more, not eaten, but a slimy shell of its now former self.

And now, for the benefit of our Spanish-speaking fans, here is a replay of the American tree frog's final journey, as described by Andres Cantor.

La rana del árbol brinca de cojito alrededor del camión rosa, gigante y grande. Hoppity de hoppity de Hoppity, y hay los gatos. Zoe y Chloe, Zoe y Chloe. La Rana del árbol, Zoe y Chloe. La rana brinca de cojito y, un abofetea en la cabeza de Zoe. Otro brinco de cojito, otro choque de Chloe. ¡Zoe y Chloe, brinco de cojito de hippity y abofetea! ¡El humano gigante trata de conseguir la toallita de papel, pero Zoe, la rana, Zoe, la toallita de papel, la rana! ¡Zoe con una mordedura, una mordedura inmensa y va hacia abajo la rana para un Objetivo! ¡Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooal! ¡Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooal! ¡Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooal! ¡Zoe el gato de calicó, con su hermana Chloe, devastación increíble de la rana norteamericana de árbol, terminando con un Golazo! ¡Goooooooooooazo! ¡Azo, azo azo!