“Frog and Toad” May Just Be the Romance We All Need

Or, how a reluctant mom found a toddler-friendly show she actually loves herself.

The first thing that hooked me about the animated series Frog and Toad was what the title characters do while waiting for the mail to arrive. Cautiously detangling my toddler’s wet curls—the screen time buying me some tear-free combing—I watched the duo play checkers and lie on the grass watching clouds drift overhead. Realizing the mail might take even longer than they expected, Frog and Toad read aloud to each other from a book, watch a sunset, gaze at fireflies and sip tea on the front porch. The whole montage looked distinctly more romantic than how I typically kill time during an unexpected wait: scrolling on my phone.

Of course, Frog and Toad are fictional characters (ahem, talking amphibians). They were written in the 1970’s, decades before smartphones. And they don’t really seem to have jobs. All part of the appeal, really. I was familiar with the sweet storylines of Arnold Lobel’s Frog and Toad books, and happily stumbled onto the show while searching for a chill distraction during toddler hair-combing sessions. It’s the first series I don’t mind my two-year-old requesting, because I genuinely look forward to watching it with him. It even bleeds into my thoughts about life in general—and not in the “I’ve-got-that-stupid-song-from-Daniel-Tiger-stuck-in-my-head” type of way.

The show’s subtle, dry sense of humor transcends most kids’ “content,” but really it’s the romance of the whole series that attracts me. On one level, it’s the charming teapots and gramophone dance parties, the springtime morning strolls and special Christmas rolls. All those simple pleasures of analog life that feel particularly rich in comparison to the hollowness of much of our current digital existence. The show definitely gives off some low-key “romanticize your life” vibes, and I may or may not have started drinking from an antique teacup since getting into the show. Packing up to meet friends for a solstice river dip last week, I threw a thermos of spiced tea and a hunk of cranberry bread into the pack, thinking—at least a little bit—What would Frog and Toad do?

But there’s another level: the romance between Frog and Toad themselves. There’s been conjecture about Lobel’s thoughts and intentions when he originally wrote the characters, and about the nature of their relationship. At face value, the series is about two friends—an odd couple of sorts—and the ways they care about each other, enjoy each other and enjoy a simple life together. In a snarky world filled with therapy speak, the simple pleasure those characters take in each other hits different.

It reminds me of a line from James Baldwin’s 1963 The Fire Next Time, where he remarks at the rarity of people truly enjoying each other. It’s one thing to appreciate the things someone does for you, or the things you do together with a friend or partner—it’s another thing to simply enjoy them. To relish being in their presence. To look at their quirks, their personality, and feel a warmth in your chest. To feel a shock of pleasure when you run into them.

Recently I found myself buzzing after an evening with friends, thinking: Shouldn’t we all be a little in love with our friends? What a privilege it is to have people in your life who make you feel seen and cared for, who inspire you. People who sparkle and leave you glowing when they go. And isn’t that romance?

It’s that kind of romance I see in Frog and Toad. Certainly they share adventures, but so much of the show is about how Frog and Toad are always thinking of ways to make the other happy. They can’t wait to spend time with each other (Frog waking Toad up early so they can enjoy the first day of spring together), and look for ways to celebrate each other (Toad throwing a festival for Frog’s award-worthy garden squash). It’s the kind of romance we could all use more of—even platonically.

I’m sure at some point the “Frog and Toad” theme song may start to grate, right along with all the rest. But in the meantime, it’s a sweet escape from a harsher world. It’s a place where the days are softened in the glow of romance and you’re safe among friends. So for now, I’ll cheers with my silly teacup and won’t mind too much when my little guy begs to watch more “Fog’n’Toad.”