Toads and Toasters

The toaster has decided to be difficult. I think it is about three years old, which is the right age for wanting to test boundaries and develop awkward habits. It has decided it does not want to accept pieces of bread for toasting, refusing to ‘latch’ into the correct downward spring position when bread is inserted. You have to persevere in order to make the latching mechanism work, and this involves a certain level of violence on my part, which entertains his Lordship Malarkey no end. And then, when the damned machine has performed its task, most sullenly I might add, it has taken to evicting the toast at high speed across the worktop, ricocheting it some several feet, which entertains Bambino no end because he had forgotten he rather enjoyed the ‘Stealing the Toast’ game when he was a kitten, and now he has remembered and lies in ambush, awaiting his moment of glory. 

It’s all very tedious and, quite frankly, putting me off toast.

There is but one difference of letter between ‘toast’ and ‘toads’ which brings me nicely onto my next subject. Oh, all right...and the difference of one letter placement, too. Anyway, yesterday I sent Dear Daughter this photo of the Laundry Room baby swallows...

...can you see them? I couldn’t do much of a focus, I’m afraid, what with them being Up There, and me being Down Here, and having to wrangle my iPad in roughly the right direction whilst attempting to press the correct button whilst avoiding attack from Mummy and Daddy Swallow. But if you look carefully, you can see four little massive beaked faces staring eerily over the edge of the nest, like avian versions of Audrey 2, the flesh eating plant from ‘The Little Shop of Horrors.’ 

And after she had made the correct cooing noises about these sinister little creatures, Dear Daughter enquired after the health of Somethingnasty, the toad who lives in the woodshed. I said he/ she was fine, I’d seen he/she two weeks ago and he/she was quite a size now. Like an avocado.

And then we got talking, like you do, about how poorly represented is the toad in both popular and literary culture. Think Toad from ‘The Wind in the Willows’, Baron Greenback from ‘Dangermouse’ and the evil master toad whose name escapes me from that marvellous film, ‘Flushed Away.’ By the way, I recommend that everyone should watch ‘Flushed Away’ if only to enjoy the singing slugs. I digress...

‘Maybe,’ said I, ‘I should write a story in which the toad becomes the hero.’

‘Yes,’ said Dear Daughter, and we tested out some toad theories, like how their long toes mean they are probably very dexterous and therefore capable of performing skills such as origami and magic tricks. I think at some point in the conversation we also discussed the possibility of them wearing diamond tiaras, but I might have imagined that. Or dreamt it. 

I ran the idea by Andy, who is himself launching into a new career of writer and artist, having stepped back from his senior vet role and now working part time from the sidelines. He said, ‘You could have Pigeon Toad. And Tip Toad.’

And then we went a bit wild with other toad/toed puns - Open Toad, Hammer Toad and Web Toad. It’s a writer thing. But I can see stories for each one. Tip Toad is either a ballet dancer or a council tip operative with a keen eye for spotting treasures in other people’s rubbish. Open Toad is a counsellor. And a bit of a hippie. Web Toad, obviously, is a computer buff. Pigeon Toad can fly. And Hammer Toad? Why, a rapper/ musician, of course! It’s Hammer Time! (Can’t touch this!) 

And this morning I came up with some lazy triplet toads - Three Toad Sloth! Although this might reinforce the negative stereotype of the toad we are aiming to erase. A story of redemption, then? 

And I know what you are thinking, dear reader. You are thinking, ‘Sod the toads. Where’s the next episode of ‘Clive and Min?’ Don’t you be getting yourself all distracted, Mrs Malarkey.’

I promise I shan’t.