Why must it always be me?

Why is it that I'm always the only one who has these ridiculously enormous frogs fall out of the most unexpected places? This was was tucked up inside the lawn mower cover. He came heaving out at me when I was getting the mower out yesterday. All I could think about the whole time I was mowing was Uncle Trig's story about the little toad who kept hopping around the blades. Thirty two years later, I still remember that story :-)

The way I figure it, this toad's about a women's size 7.

(incidentally, the spellcheck didn't like the word "women's". It did, however, recommend replacing it with "womenfolk's". I'm thinking it's an Appalachian dictionary)