One night when she was lying in her delicious bed, a nasty frog came out of the window. There was a broken tile. The frog was ugly, fat and wet, she jumped on the table where Thumbelina was lying and slept under the quilt of red rose leaves. It would be a perfect woman for my son to say to himself the frog, and she grabbed the nut hull where Thumbelina slept, and through the tile, jumped into the garden with her.