After over a week of wishing Father Frog well; waiting for news from the doctors to hear if the operation went to plan; giving offers to sleep in the big, empty house in which Mother Frog is scared (errr, not my offer); popping around to visit Father Frog (and trying to fight through the hordes of visitors); Father Frog was allowed to come home last night.
Whilst it'll take a couple of months to physically recover from the surgery, nobody is fretting much over his mental health. On the drive back to the house he told Mother Frog off for the things that hadn't happened whilst he was away and on first seeing Frog, asked him to account for exactly what he'd been up to during the day's so called work. This, I think, was a relief for all the family to see things heading back to normal.
Which is why when discussing my future employment plans (or lack of) last night, Frog's comment, "You know we can't employ you at the house", was one I chose to shake my head at and look at him like the strange Frog he is. No siree. I'm happy to help out at the house in my spare time, but really, can you imagine having boyfriend's parents as your employers?!