Looking up from my work station, I saw many of the brazers over in the area where we put our completed work. Glancing around, I saw a few more looking and pointing towards the floor. I looked at where they were pointing, and lo and behold, there was a frog!
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| Not Actual Frog |
Now, how in the world that little frog made it all the way to the sub-brazing area -- which is slap in the center of the building -- without getting squshed is beyond me, but there he was.
One of the less frightened brazers grabbed a cardboard box and attempted to get the frog to hop into it, but the little Kermit was having none of it. So, me being me, I just reached down and picked him up.
And I named him George and I hugged him, and squeezed him, and petted him, and patted him...
OK, not really. I was afraid I'd hurt him. I carefully carried him outside through the scrap dock doors, and released him into the grass on the other side of the fence. I hope he is OK, and that he didn't absorb too much oil and chemicals that he dies from that.
But while I was walking through the plant, crowds of people parted before me like the Red Sea. Even one of the supervisors like to have fallen over getting off of her Blartmobile. One lady screamed and ran, then turned around and said, "Becky, what you got over there?" It's a frog! Then she screamed again.
After I stopped laughing, I carried the frog outside and let him go. Returning to my work area after washing my hands, I felt I had to record this incident on my down time sheet. Wondering how to word it, I finally came up with an acceptable statement:
"Chasing people with a frog."
And how was your day?
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