There is Kermit's happy, goofy, self-satisfied smile and he holds her hand while they walk to the house. "Yep--that's MY GIRL there that just made that stunning entrance! Lucky me, huh?" The way they exchange kisses on the couch--and Kermit doesn't even squirm like an eight-year-old (like he does on the Disney bumper, the execrable Walgreen's singing thing and on A Red and Green Christmas Album). You can see, I think, why a mature, non-childish, non-fat-joke Kermit--which was what we got when Jim was with us--is what old-timers like me consider to be normal. While Kermit might not be rushing out to buy a house with a picket fence, his affection was genuine and visible to everyone who cared about him. He put thought into his present for Piggy and was delighted when she finally joined them all at the farm house. I've only recently begun to see THAT frog again after all this time--not the 14-year-old masquerading as a grown-up version of Kermit that they kept trying to shove on us.
And I will tell you something else, guys--woman find men who commit very likeable. I don't mean, women find men who commit to them likeable--I mean, ladies like a man not afraid to stake his claim and declare himself. THAT's the Kermit I admire and love. (And the guy washing dishes in the zebra-print coat isn't too bad, either!)