I was mowing the lawn yesterday with our little push mower, and I turned a corner and saw something kinda flop out from under the mower. Upon closer inspection, it was a frog. Was. Well, I mean it was still a frog, but a very much dead frog that no longer had all of its complete appendages. I was super grossed out so I left it laying there upside down with its poor white little belly exposed while I finished mowing.
While I was grabbing the standing dust pan/rake combo we use to pick up dog poo, Alex asked what I was doing. I told him what happened, and he obviously immediately expressed his desire to see it. Well...I mean...that's morbid and nasty, but you do come from a family that includes an aunt that intentionally decomposed a toad in a box so she could have a toad skeleton, so let's go scoop us a mangled frog!
We got out there and Alex was appropriately sad, and then asked me to flip it over. That's when I saw it was missing about half its skull. As I was gagging, Alex leaned in and announced it was a male frog. Oh really? And pray tell, how did you figure that? "Well, the male frog has a bigger brain than a female frog, so this is a male." Uh huh. And you just have a mental catalog of how big an average male and/or female frog brain is? Ok, sure.