A Frog Fell Out Of My Mouth

Sarah Long

The expression is “a frog in your throat”. I know that but I’m not talking about expressions. I’m telling you about the time I opened my mouth and a frog fell out. A frog fell out of my mouth. Ribbit ribbit. Ribbit ribbit and all that. Whatever, you might say. So what? It’s a tale as old as time. A frog says ribbit ribbit. Big deal. Only, that’s not what it actually says. Ribbit ribbit. No, it's not what it says.

Well, it is what we say it says. Do you know what I mean? Ribbit ribbit is what you say to the baby sitting on your lap. You need to say something afterall. The baby isn’t going to tell you a story. And so, ribbit! You are in complete control. You could spin this yarn any old which-way really. The baby is all ears. Ribbit ribbit, you say. Ribbit ribbit, says the frog. Or, so we say they say. Ribbit ribbit. It's not entirely untrue Nothing is entirely untrue. No actually, that is entirely untrue. Things are untrue. Ribbit ribbit is not what a frog says. It just sounds like what they say. To a human ear. The baby was all ears

“Bibbit bibbit”, the baby says back to you. Because it's not that small of a baby. Sorry if you had pictured a newborn in your mind’s eye. But what kind of newborn would be sat on your lap looking up at you all ears? No, this baby says “Bibbit bibbit”. Bibbit bibbit. A frog falls out of the baby’s mouth. This frog is slightly more luminous than the frog that fell out of my mouth. Now there are two frogs hopping on the floor. So, if someone was to say “Hey look at that frog”, you wouldn’t know which frog they were talking about. You could only take a guess. A punt. You could take a wild stab at it. (Then it would say “ribbit ribbit!” for sure.) Worse still, if you couldn’t see the frogs, if they’ve hopped too far out of sight, you’d have to try and remember, does a frog go “ribbit ribbit” or “bibbit bibbit”? And you might think, I’ve been told that a frog goes “ribbit ribbit” for too long and maybe now is the time for the frog to say “bibbit bibbit”. Or, you might think to yourself, a frog has always said “ribbit ribbit” and it will say “ribbit ribbit” up until—and including—the day I die, if I have any say in the matter.

Only frogs don’t say ribbit ribbit. We only say they do. Because that’s what they sound like. Is that what they sound like? More of a croak, if you ask me. But that’s untrue too. If you were to ask me what a frog says, sure of course, I’d say ribbit ribbit. You might think it's unfair that we say a frog says ribbit ribbit when that's not what it says, it's just we say it says. We are trying to conjure the frog with our “ribbit ribbit” but I don’t need to tell you, I mean I’m sure you’ve heard enough tales about frogs to know that even if you haven’t personally held one in your hand, they are slippery creatures. They will simply hop away. And you’ll be left saying “ribbit ribbit” after them. Of course, the irony is there was no frog until I opened my mouth and it fell out. Now it's hopping away. Ribbit ribbit.

Apparently, there was one frog once, like years and years ago, in the early years of Hollywood and they said ribbit ribbit and wore cool movie star sunglasses and all the producers and storytellers recorded it and the recording is still going. You can listen to it. It says ribbit. That frog says ribbit ribbit. And so, ya ,maybe the frog says ribbit ribbit. But then again, it may have even been a toad.

This text was kindly commissioned by GOMA, Waterford for the exhibition At Night the Hens Stand and Dream, 20 Sept - 9 August, 2026. Sarah’s website is https://sarahlongartist.com/

Image: Incisor Imposter, 2024.