I had a new "oh, my family were the weird ones" moment recently: it seems no one else's family celebrated Frog Night (the first warm rainy night of spring) by going down to the local vernal pool after dark to help the amphibians safely across the road and listening to the spring peepers. (We'd then go back in daytime later on to observe the egg masses, of course.)

Apparently "Frog Night" as a holiday is a thing my mother invented and not a widely-accepted idea, which is a shame because I've been referring to it as if it was for the past 30 years.