Don’t Buy the Froggy Mug, Sarah!
Come with me if you don’t want to ribbit.
Freeze! Step away from the froggy mug, Sarah. I said step away! The rest of your life will depend on what you do right now, so I suggest you choose wisely.
Good, now listen. This isn’t what it looks like. Okay, so it’s exactly what it looks like — I’m you from the future, and I’ve traveled back in time to stop you from buying that adorable froggy mug. I know, it sounds crazy, but I’m here to help.
What? Yes, everyone in the future dresses like this. It’s very fashionable. Don’t talk to me about style while you’re wearing Crocs, Past Sarah.
Look, forget about that — this is about the mug. Yes, it’s a very cute mug. It’s the perfect shade of kelly green that we’ve loved since we were a girl, and it has such a big, friendly smile, plus those Shirley Temple dimples that just melt your heart. I mean, come on — dimples! On a frog! Doesn’t that just beat all? It’ll look great on its lily pad saucer in your little coffee nook, and you’ll smile every morning when you sip your latte from it. But you have to resist. Say no to the frog.
Here’s the problem: if you buy that mug, it will become your “thing.” Frogs. This one little innocent impulse purchase will snowball on you and turn you into the Frog Lady for the rest of your life. Remember Gramma Joanie and her cat collection? That’s gonna be you, girl. Every birthday, every Christmas, everyone you know will bombard you with kitschy frog stuff for the rest of your freaking life. Refrigerator magnets. Flannel pajamas. Little ceramic knick-knack frogs playing banjos that just stare at you with their dead black eyes as you sidle past them to the bathroom in the middle of the night. It’ll be cute at first, sure, but before long the frogs will take over your life.
Your niece is going to buy you a ridiculous froggy wall clock with swinging legs for a pendulum, and you’ll put on a big fake smile when you open it because she’s so proud of finding you the perfect gift. You’ll hang it up in the kitchen so she can see it whenever she comes over, and when you sit there sipping on your morning coffee in your cute little froggy mug, the stupid ticking legs will just about drive you mad until you finally smash the damned thing to pieces and then go buy another one so she doesn’t find out. You’re gonna have a froggy dish set. Froggy bath towels. Kermit everything. You’ll buy shelving units just to display all the little frog trinkets that you never wanted in the first place, and you’ll thank your friends every time they add something to the collection. “Oh, it’s so nice! You shouldn’t have. Really, you shouldn’t have. Please. Stop.”
But they won’t. They’ll keep giving you froggy stuff because it’s easy and they can check you off the Christmas list without having to think about it, and you’ll get so sick of hearing that damn Michigan J. Frog sing his annoying little ragtime tune that you just want to scream every time you see him, even though he’s Tom’s favorite and he got you matching alpaca scarves with the WB logo on them —
What? No, we’re not still together with Tom. He dumped us for a communications major working her way through college at a frickin’ gas station, the jackass. But not before buying me a horribly tacky frog brooch that he wanted me to wear all the time. I actually melted it down in a saucepan on the stove after he left, and I felt like a wrathful amphibian god raining vengeance down upon all frog-kind for their arrogance. It was magnificent. Totally worth ruining the saucepan.
All right, I can see that I’m disturbing you. That’s understandable. But you have to believe me. Look, you think time travel is easy? I came here at great personal danger and expense just to deliver this warning. I am in hell, Sarah! I can’t insult my friends. I can’t tell everyone I love that for the past twenty years I’ve hated the gifts that they’ve given me with the fire of a thousand suns, so I’ve decided to nullify my entire existence instead. I will kamikaze those frogs out of our life forever. Why don’t you buy that nice dolphin mug over there instead? I could live with being the Dolphin Lady. Maybe someone would take us to the Bahamas to swim with them someday. That would be nice.
I see. Well, I didn’t want it to come to this, but — die, froggy, die! There! Now you’ll never have it! Ha, and that one, too! And that one — good lord, how many do they have in stock? Help me, Sarah, please! It’s for our own good. We must destroy them before they destroy us! It’s — stop it! Get your hands off me, you damn rent-a-cop! Sarah! Don’t buy the froggy mug, Sarah! You’ll be sorry! Listen to me, Sarah! I’ll be baaaaack!
