It's springtime. I can tell because the snow is gone, the grass is green, the leaves are almost out on the trees, and the boys found their first toad.
Actually, some other boys found it first. They thought it was injured, and were getting ready to let it go in the small retention pond behind our house when my oldest scooped him up and began taking care of him. Mr. Toad Head (as he was named by my eldest son) appears to be doing well, and maybe was "playing sick" because he hops well, and seems to be in good health, as far as I can tell, since I'm not a herpetologist.
This is the first toad of the season. The first of many. Matthew is asking where "his toad" is (the one he found last year in our backyard). He can't wait to find his toad again.
I don't mind them finding creatures and handling them. Daniel understands how to be gentle and Matthew understands better this year. I just refuse to touch them myself.
I only ask that they let him go at night so he can find his dinner and a safe place to sleep. Daniel was excited to find Mr. Toad Head again this morning. Maybe that's because he let him go behind the deck box which is right next to our house. We'll see if he's there again tomorrow morning.