Two-step

Sticking his tongue out with concentration, the tiny toad hobbled down my driveway. As I loaded up my car with my bags for work, I stopped to watch him. Rather than hopping along, he was standing on his two bag legs and awkwardly stepping down my driveway. He merely glanced at me before he continued to hobble along.

"How am I doing?" he asked. He stopped and stuck a piece of grass in his mouth, pulling down a brown crinkly leaf over his forehead.

"With what?" I asked, confused. "Why are you wearing a leaf on your head?"

"It's my cowboy hat," the frog said, obviously offended. He waved his piece of grass at me as he turned to hobble back up the driveway. "Can't you see that? It's a Stetson hat."

"I didn't know Stetson made hats for frogs," I said, trying not to smile as he waddled toward me. "And that's a nice piece of grass you're chewing on."

"I'm not a frog, I'm a toad," the toad scowled up at me.

"Sorry," I said, wondering why a toad was wearing a pretend cowboy hat and waddling about my driveway instead of eating flies.

The toad nodded smugly. "So how am I doing?" he repeated, spinning around on the balls of his feet and staring up at me.

I plastered a smile on my face. "With what?" I asked again.

The toad glared at me and sighed heavily. "With my two-stepping!" he bellowed. "Can't you see I'm practicing for the Pond two-stepping competition?"

"I didn't know there was a Pond two-stepping competition," I said.

"That's because you weren't invited," he smirked.

"Is it only for frogs?" I asked.

"Toads!" he bellowed, hopping up and down and causing his leaf to fall off his head. "Dadgum it, look what you made me do."

"How can a toad two step with four feet?" I asked. "Isn't it why it's called two step?"

The toad answered me with a scathing glare.

"Sorry," I said, trying not to giggle. "So tell me, toad. Why are you wearing a cowboy hat and two-stepping?"

"Isn't it obvious?" the toad asked, giving me a scornful glare. "I'm a cow-toad." With that, he haughtily hopped away into the bushes to finish training for his two-stepping competition. Only his leaf cowboy hat remained behind.

"Good luck," I murmured, getting in my car and backing out. As I closed the garage door, I saw the bushes rustle and a brown leaf bob across the flowerbed. I just grinned. It was two-stepping time again.