The frog and the wig

So I was updating my profile a little bit and having it change the random question and the question it came up with was, "The children are waiting! Tell the story about the frog and the wig." So I wrote this whole long story about a frog and a wig, only it said it was too long. I decided that I would copy what I wrote and post it here just because of the principle of the thing. I took the time to write it and don't want to have to just delete it. So here is my story of the frog and the wig:

Once upon a time, there was a frog named Ribit. He was a happy little frog, but there was one thing he didn't like about himself. He was bald. Not a stitch of hair on his head. Aren't all frogs bald, you wonder? Yes, but that didn't matter to Ribit. He wanted hair. And not just any hair. He wanted long, flowing, golden tresses that glittered in the sunlight and glittered and flowed about him as he swam. Ribit was getting rather depressed about his lack of shimmering locks, so one day he decided to do something about it. He swam down the river to the bridge by the market and hopped up the banks and up the busy road until he found the shop he was looking for. There it was in all its grandeur: the wig shop. And there, sitting in the front window, was the hair he had always dreamed about. This was his chance. Watching for traffic, he hopped across the street and into the door and up on the sales counter. The salesperson was understandably astonished when suddenly a frog appeared before her and started talking, but she took it all in stride. "Yes," she said, "that wig is for sale. But how will you pay for it?" The frog thought for a moment and then offered to do what he vowed he would never do. Yes, he would don the hat and cane and at noon everyday for a week, he would get up on the counter and sing and dance. The salesperson thought of the crowds this would bring in and the money it would bring the store, so she readily agreed, on the condition that he not take the wig until the week was over. The frog agreed and everyday at noon, would get up on the counter and do his dance. When the week was over, the frog was relieved to finally have in his possession the wig. And what a beautiful wig it was. He put it on, hopped back to the river, jumped in, and started to swim. It was everything he had ever dreamed about. Some of the other frogs would laugh at him with his wig, but he didn't care. He was happy.