It was in our dimly lit hall where I first spotted it, just a moment ago - an amorphous blob that I initially thought was a curled up leaf that had somehow been tracked in. I nudged it with my shoe and it hopped! Into the bathroom it went and that’s when I saw what it was.
I scooped it up gently and turned it loose.
I guess I’ll never know how my little friend got into the house, and whether I did right by it in releasing it to the back yard. All I can do is wish the little creature well.
Did you sing “Hoppy Trails” as it headed for the hills?
Wish I thought of it! 
Awwww, I guess no picture, eh? It’s okay, I looked up “baby frog” on Google image and received a satisfactory squee.
I have a pond which is a frog breeding ground, in the past I’ve seen dozens of weeny little frogs, so far this year I’ve just seen the one. But they do tend to hide themselves away and they’re well camouflaged . I’ve got to cut the grass soon, which means patrolling round the garden with a bucket to avoid a What’s green and red? situation with the mower.
BarnOwl–you a Floridoper?
I discovered a frog one morning, when putting on my shoes for work. No teeny little one, either. I lived near a small creek, and it was only a simple hop up a path and a squeeze under the door to get into my front room. Why it bothered doing so was the bit I’ll never understand.
No, Bosda! 
And that’s what amazes me. I’m in New England and that frog ended up in my house!
BTW…It was less than an inch long.
My guess is it came in from the deck, through the open sliding door.
When did you notice your stereo was missing?
Once, back when I was a bank teller, one of the people opening up found a toad in the night deposit. Somehow I don’t think it got there by itself.
They can be very determined though. When we lived in PA, I discovered a very well nourished toad squeezed into the corner by our front door. Thinking he looked rather uncomfortable there on the concrete, I took him around to the back garden and put him a nice spot under a bush. The next morning when I came out, he was right back in exactly the same spot. It was quite a trek for a toad, too, all the way around the building. We did this a few more time, to my amusement, if not his. In retrospect, he might have liked the spot by the door because the porch light attracted bugs or something.
You are now a God to the frog-people. Think of the stories they will pass on for generations about you!
I thought Barn Owls ate frogs?!
Probably a tree frog, we have a lot of them around here in the Pacific Northwest.
But not my froggie friends!
My wife wonders if the frog rode in on our feral cat’s food dish. We feed her twice a day, and the frog might have got into it it after the cat had her fill.
The littl’uns are called “froglets,” I believe.
Alas I was responsible for a rather grim scenario the other day. We got some rain and the froglets in the nearby drainage canal decided to go a’roaming. I occasionally fancy myself an amateur naturalist, so I caught one up in a paper cup and took it inside to look at it under a magnifying glass. (I wanted to see if I could tell whether it was a native frog or an introduced Cuban tree frog, of which there are a lot around here.)
Anyhoo, as soon as I got inside, the phone rang. I put the cup on top of the computer to answer it; turned out it was a long-distance call, and I forgot all about the li’l frog.
The next morning I spotted the cup sitting there-- eek! After forcing him to sit in the cup all night, I thought I’d better just let him go at that point. So I peeked inside. HE WAS MUMMIFIED. Overnight, every molecule of water had been sucked out of his tiny little body. His miniscule dried-out skeleton was sitting there in a relaxed yet pensive pose, as if his last little froggy thoughts in life were: “Something’s not right here… I’m not sure what it is, but I’m definitely uncomfortable somehow. I’ll just keep sitting still, and maybe it’ll go away…”
Bottom line: frogs and air conditioning don’t mix.
Sorry, little frog.
A woman I work with is enamored with frogs. I have a book (somewhere) that says that in heraldry’s coats-of-arms and shields, a frog is a symbol of the devil. I love to point that out to her.
I was reading a blog about Peter Gabriel. “Kiss that Frog,” is his song, of course. I’d never considered that kissing a frog is a metaphor for giving a blowjob.
I don’t dislike frogs. But in a situation like the OP’s, they always startle the HELL out of me.
It would have been so small and delicate to you that you wouldn’t have been the least bit scared or even startled.
I bet I would have been. It’s the motion of something that I thought was inanimate that startles me.