The summer I remember the most is when my father was alive. Every year we went to my grandfather's beach house in the countryside of Rio de Janeiro, and we stayed for three months with the whole family, uncles, cousins, and close friends. Our routine was to wake up, have a good breakfast and go to the beach with a bag full of snacks. Around two o'clock in the afternoon, we would go home to rest and then go out again, but I could never sleep during the afternoon and I was alone awake with nothing to do. I was looking for things to do and I had no one to play with, I was only 4 years old, and believe me, I still remember this story. So, I went to the tank outside the house to fill buckets of water to play with, wash my beach toys, and suddenly I felt something cold on my shoulders, when I looked I saw a frog on my arm. My God, desperate, I screamed a lot and had no reaction on what to do. My father came to meet me and I was standing there looking at the frog on my arm. In the end, nothing serious happened, it was just a scare and a fun story to tell.
