Down with Frogs

By Eden Gruger

Laugh Out Loud Hilarious, Candid, Occasionally Tragic Tales

It has always been said Princess’ have to kiss a lot frogs before they find their Prince...so it makes sense that sometimes they might feel like giving up on love.

From awkward first meetings, dreadful dinners, to who should do the dusting, and sexual mishaps dating is a minefield.

The big question is will we learn from our mistakes or make them all over again?

Whether you are happily settled, or still looking, these laugh out loud, always candid, occasionally tragic tales will delight you.

"Amazingly funny book. the author has got an amazing sense of humour can't wait to read the next book"

"I would highly recommend"

"5.0 out of 5 stars Hilarious I absolutely loved this book! What a fab read and never a dull moment. It was very easy to read and very well written"

"Hahaha! Imagination into overdrive. Can just imagine being in such a situation and having the giggles. More stories
please!"

"Had me smiling all the way through. Can’t wait to read more"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eden Gruger
• Release date: Feb 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9781739864293

Eden Gruger

Eden Gruger is an eccentric author whose CV that mentions both PCB Design software sales, and hula hooping.Writing hilarious, candid, occasionally tragic stories, each collection is based around a theme that touches women's hearts and funny bones.When not working Eden spends her time in her garden, on her allotment or trying to persuade her dogs to behave just a bit better.

Book preview

The Curry Question

Neil offered to cook me a romantic dinner, given that the last time someone cooked me a ‘romantic dinner’ they had ended up in A & E I wasn’t as keen as you might think. Anyway, he wanted to cook, so I said yes, and hoped this time dinner wouldn’t involve a burns unit. On the chosen evening I was greeted by an indefinable smell, it was spicy, it was unfamiliar, it was mildly concerning. But there was nothing for it I braced myself and stepped inside.

Neil wouldn’t let me near the kitchen, which was quite tricky what with it being open plan house, and the entire downstairs being one room. Where was I supposed to put myself? So I sat on the other side of the living room looking everywhere but into the kitchen. My mind was split between listening to his retelling of his day, and wondering what the smell reminded me of.

Finally the moment arrived, my questions were about to be answered. Neil placed the plates on the table with a flourish, and I saw it. Orange blobs piled into a sloppy heap, very much in the style of a fresh cowpat if the cow was a bit on the poorly side. Now, this is not a story about ha ha men cannot cook, they are all basically domestic idiots. Many men can and do create culinary masterpieces, which have their friends, partners, families and others rubbing their hands together, and smacking their lips with glee. All I am saying is that Neil was not one of those men.

Maybe he had forgotten that he’d said he would cook tonight, and had run into the supermarket, grabbed the first ready meal he saw and was trying to pass it off as his own?

Sadly I was not to be that lucky, this was an original dish alright. Gingerly moving things around with my fork uncovered something pink... prawns maybe? No, not quite the right shape, there was no point trying to guess. Trying to look pleased, impressed and not at all horrified I asked ‘what have you called your masterpiece?’

Proudly, yes you read that correctly proudly, he replied ‘crabstick curry’.

How annoying that I hadn’t taken the time to practice my poker face lately, I knew that revulsion shone from my face. The best distraction seemed to be asking every question that I could think of about his menu choice - anything to avoid actually eating it. Against all odds it seemed the meal had been quite carefully planned. Crabsticks being very low in calories, must be healthier than any of the traditional choices for curry, you know like lamb, chicken, prawns. ‘Or vegetables’ I suggested? Bless him, he said with all confidence of a head chef, ‘no, it didn’t need any veg, he thought it stood on its own really’.

Holy crap, despite his best efforts he had created something with ingredients that I wouldn’t eat individually let alone together. Call me ungrateful if you will.

This did explain why I hadn’t been able to identify the smell. Crabsticks are actually made of various bits of fish, despite an internet rumour that they were made from cows intestines, but I wasn’t sure they were supposed to be cooked. And the pre-made sauce was just a bit babyfoody up close.

The texture achieved was both stringy and slimy, which is definitely not something that every foodstuff could accomplish. So well done crabsticks, or should I say crabstick manufacturers.

I really did try to eat some of it, I promise. But after the first nibble I know that there was no option but to admit defeat. It’s not good guest etiquette to throw up on the dining table.

There was no option but to admit defeat, plead a late, large lunch. That he had given me a massive portion. More than I could possibly manage. And having eaten as as much as I possibly could. Neil was rightly suspicious, having seen me barge children out of the way to get my post workout snack. He knew that I wasn’t a ‘one lettuce leaf and I’m full kind of girl’.

The only way to distract him was with a long ramble about how impressive his inventive cooking style was. How appreciated he was, and how lucky I felt to have my dinner cooked, you know the kind of thing. Yes, I nodded to his inquiries, maybe not eating was a sign of coming down with