The Frog

I've had a sore throat since last Friday.  Part of my job is training graduate students, and I have to speak for about two continuous hours at a time.  I'm very hoarse.  I'm not sure what's up with that, but it's liveable.  Yesterday when I picked Eddie up from preschool, I could tell he was not in a stellar mood, so I very gently told him that he should be nice to me tonight because I don't feel good and because I have a frog in my throat. 

Eddie:  "Let me see the frog."
Me:  "It's not really a frog.  That's just what you say when your throat hurts."
Eddie:  "I want to see."
I open my mouth and he leans close to inspect.  I make an open-mouthed croaking noise and he cracks up.

Eddie:  "Are we going to Souper Salads?"
Me:  "Yes."
Eddie:  "Are you going to feed your frog salad?"
Me (giggling):  "Yeah, I guess so."
Eddie:  "If you take some medicine, will the frog come out?"
Me:  "We'll have to give that a try!"

Where does he get this stuff?!