When I was child, I remember reading a version of Charles Perrault’s fairy tale “Toads and Diamonds.” I’m not sure if it was the version from The Blue Fairy Book. I don’t think so, because I distinctly remember the term “hoppy toads,” as opposed to simply “toads,” from the version I read.
There are days when I wake in the morning and I know that it’s going to be a hoppy toad day. Usually it’s because I’m wrestling with issues internally that I can’t find a way to express in a reasonable way, or that for one reason or another it’s not appropriate for me to talk about. That’s hard for me, since talking (and/or writing) things out is a big part of how I understand and resolve them. So when I can’t discuss things that are bothering me, it tends to make me cranky. When I’m cranky, I get defensive, and tend to interpret much of what’s going on around me as criticism and attack (often incorrectly). And when I feel attacked, my facility with language makes it easy for me shape words into deadly projectiles that leave my mouth with a level of speed and force that’s almost guaranteed to do damage. Poisonous toads and venomous snakes.
This is not, needless to say, my most lovable personality trait. Happily, as I’ve gotten older, my ability to control those verbal projectiles has improved…but I’m still not perfect. So when I find myself in a “hoppy toad” mood, as I do today, I generally try to stay away from people. Trying extremely hard to not to open my mouth, for fear of what will emerge if I do.
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