part 1/2 in a series of undesirable objects found in my room

There is a frog in my room.
I don't know how, or why, or since when (though I suspect something that involves a cat). All I know is that something flew past my head that I took for a large roach; upon further discovery, it was a green frog. A large green frog.
It perched in triumphant blatancy on the wall above my bed. I stood, newly returned from the loo, Lord of the Rings in hand, and took a few minutes to accept the fact that there was a frog in my attic bedroom.
I then pondered what to do. Should I catch it myself? No - out of the question - I would immediately scream and throw it away from me. Get mom to catch it for me? Sneak into parents' bedroom; they're both wearing their C-PAPS. Scary. Are sisters awake? No, and I know better than to wake them up.
I finally, timidly, rouse my mother from her Darth Vaderesque slumber.
"Mom?"
"Hm."
"Mom, there's a frog in my room."
"Hm?"
"No, really.
"Okay."
"...Just saying. I mean, if you wanna come get it..."
"No."
"Okay..."
[Dad wakes up] "There's a frog in her room?"
"It's okay dad. DON'T GET UP. We can get it tomorrow."
[Paternal relief]
"Goodnight, love y'all."
"Hm."
I return to my room to collect my book and phone. The frog is still there, this time almost on the ceiling; out of my reach.
I give it a stern word or two and retreat to the living room, heart racing. The killer kitten curls up innocently by me on the couch.
YOU...

[Update: Rachel helped me find the frog today. The little guy was inexplicably dead. RIP frog.]