Monday, March 16, 2026

Frog and Toad and the Neurodivergent Brain

What a gentle story about friendship can teach us about inclusion in the workplace

By Alison Brown

In these turbulent times, I’ve found myself drawn to comfort watching my favourite shows for the millionth time—or discovering new shows that are the TV equivalent of a quiet cup of tea with a kindred spirit. No explosions, no wars, no intricate plot points that will keep me up at night, ruminating.

The world right now often feels dystopian; I crave safety and familiarity in a world that feels unsafe.

This is quite common with neurodivergent people and it’s backed by neuroscience—our comfort shows provide emotional regulation, sensory safety, and dopamine from a familiar environment. I’m more likely to return to Schitt’s Creek or Pawnee, Indiana, for the twentieth time than plunge into an unfamiliar world within the hot new show that everyone’s buzzing about.

But I’ve made an exception lately for a soft, cozy show on AppleTV that found me at the right time: Frog and Toad.

Based on the children’s books written and illustrated by Arnold Lobel, Frog and Toad is a kind, gentle series about friends with differences, and how they care for each other and accommodate each other. They’re wired differently—Frog is upbeat, joyous, driven, and hops from one adventure to the next. Toad is more fearful, more fastidious, more prone to croak “blahhhhh.”

Yet in between teas and picnics replete with enormous blueberries and lemonade, they hold space for each other’s differences and help each other thrive. More often that not, it’s Frog who supports Toad. Toad is often anxious, easily overwhelmed, and unwilling to try new things. Rather than blame and get frustrated with Toad for his idiosyncrasies, Frog listens to Toad’s feelings, comforts him when he’s sad, and celebrates his wins.

A perfect example of this is in the episode “Tomorrow.” Toad is having an extra blahhhhh day. He’s overwhelmed by household chores and decides to stay in bed, proclaiming he’ll “do it tomorrow.”

Frog hops over and encourages Toad to get out of bed and start picking up his room, one tiny step at a time. Frog celebrates the completion of each step with Toad, unwaveringly patient. With the gentle encouragement of his best friend, Toad completes his chores and even joyfully engages in his hobbies of music and painting. A blahhhh day is transformed into a great day—all because of Frog’s care and consideration.

The takeaway from this story is simple but powerful: rather than shame Toad for his procrastination and blahhhhs, Frog makes the seemingly impossible possible, one tiny step at a time.

While not canon, many neurodivergent people see themselves in Toad: in his routines, his anxiety, his tendency to catastrophize, and struggles with executive function. It’s a comfort to see someone supported with patience and encouragement, where progress is celebrated rather than their struggles criticized.

Unfortunately, unfeeling and non-constructive criticism not only fails to help someone who is struggling, but can also increase the risk of anxiety and depression. In the end, this benefits neither the individual, the work, nor the workplace.

Toad may have to work harder and struggle just a little bit more, but he’s still beloved and celebrated by Frog and the other creatures in their wooded world.

Across the series, Frog consistently responds to Toad’s quirks with patience, understanding, accommodation, and reassurance. Rather than being mocked or scolded, Toad’s differences are accepted as part of what makes Toad Toad, and their friendship adapts around them.

In “The List,” Toad makes a detailed to-do list for his day: wake up, eat breakfast, get dressed, go to Frog’s house. When his list is blown away by wind, Toad finds himself unable to cope or remember what he must do next. Instead of teasing or rolling his eyes at Toad’s rigidity, Frog simply sits with him patiently until the list returns. Toad’s dependence on structure isn’t mocked; Frog treats it as something worth accommodating, showing care for Toad’s unique way of functioning.

It matters to Frog because it matters to Toad, and it’s a beautiful display of true friendship.

Toad isn’t asking for Frog to be like him, or to bend over backwards trying to fix his problems. He just wants his friend to hold space with him, to wait out the “storm” together.

Neurodivergent individuals still face prejudice, discrimination, and misunderstanding in the workplace. Many encounter employment barriers, non-inclusive environments, difficulty navigating unwritten social norms and cues, and the unspoken—or sometimes spoken—perception that they are a burden.

Education and understanding can go a long way. Greater acceptance of neurodiversity will undoubtedly help neurodivergent individuals not just succeed, but truly thrive.

Much like Toad, neurodivergent people aren’t trying to be difficult, and they don’t deserve to be judged or made to feel like something is wrong with them.

Sometimes, they simply need one good friend willing to love them for who they are and quietly sit beside them.

Frog and Toad and the Neurodivergent Brain

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