Ever hear the story about the frog that fell into a deep rut in the road and, tries as he might, he could not get out? Mrs. Frog, standing above the rut, admonished, cajoled, beckoned, and belittled

Ever hear the story about the frog that fell into a deep rut in the road and, try as he might, he could not get out? Mrs. Frog, standing above the rut, admonished, cajoled, beckoned, and belittled him.

She yelled, “Come on, Harold! You’re not even trying! I’ve seen tadpoles jump higher than that!”

Harold groaned and made a half-hearted leap, landing in the same spot. "It’s no use," he puffed. "This rut is too deep. Just go on without me. Tell the tadpoles I loved them. Oh, and feed the goldfish. Wait… do we have a goldfish?”

Mrs. Frog rolled her eyes. “You dramatic little amphibian. You used to jump like a prince. Remember when you leapt clean over that lawnmower?”

“That was before I discovered lily pad pie,” Harold mumbled.

Just then, their neighbor, Carl the turtle, walked by and said, “You want me to call a crane or something?”

“No,” said Harold with a sigh. “Just leave me. I’ll start a new life down here. Maybe dig a little hole. Open a bookstore. Call it ‘Between a Hop and a Hard Place.’”

Mrs. Frog was just about to start another lecture when — WHAM! A truck rumbled around the corner, barreling toward the rut. In a flash, Harold sprang five feet straight into the air, flipped twice, landed beside Mrs. Frog, and took a deep breath.

She blinked. “I thought you said you couldn’t get out?”

He shrugged. “I guess I had motivation.”

Carl the turtle, watching from a distance, muttered, “Maybe I need to borrow that truck next time my wife asks me to do the dishes…”