After the Rain

My son and I stood by the river watching drowned frogs float by after the hurricane. Rafts containing soaked, homeless people rushed past, one after the other. DPW workers, librarians, crossing guards. Two women screaming. Is that mom, my son asked. Yes, it is, Rob.
What does all this mean, he asked. One of us will have to make the meatloaf, son. The other woman was my mother in law. I suppressed a smile.
What will happen to them, dad?
They will go over the falls, crash into rocks and be broken into pieces, son. He wiped away a tear just as another raft carrying pizza guys wearing aprons blasted past to certain death.
Is there a God, the boy asked.
God is everywhere. I will take you to the dog park and let you watch old arthritic dogs still try to lick their own balls. That is evidence of God.
What will our government do?
Drop supplies from a helicopter and make speeches. Look at the bright side. More parking spaces for the survivors.
Then my son and I sang The Sun Will Come Up Tomorrow from Annie.
He was off key. I was perfect.

Blending In

As a frog, Eubie had one problem: he couldn't hop. It was psychological. Nothing wrong with his legs. He just froze when it came time to move. While his peers flew past him, he took tiny steps. When questioned, he said he had hamstring problems.
Eubie was forced to move around a lot, evading questions and discovery. Luckily, he was adept with his tongue, snatching flies at 20 inches. He was depressed and frustrated, however.
Then one day another frog, Archie, a practical joker, gave him a hot foot and Eubie exploded off the lily pad all the way across the pond. Euphoric, he spent the day leaping from pad to pad. Alas, one such jump landed him in a sinkhole and he vanished.
The moral of this story is to accept ones limitations only after every option has been tried. Then just live your life with a croak and a rib-bit.