It’s not my fault, guys. I swear. It’s not my fault.
I didn’t buy the tadpoles. Well, I did buy the tadpoles, but I didn’t buy the tadpole habitat that necessitated my buying the tadpoles.
See, someone gave the thing to Sam for his birthday. To their credit, they called before they showed up with it to ask if it was okay. Unfortunately, (1) Alex answered the phone and (2) they called an hour before the party when we were all distracted and impressionable.
The only reason we’re keeping it is for you people, you know. To entertain you with the stories of my distress.
Well, that and the scientific value of letting my kids learn about tadpoles and frogs, which, it turns out, are the same thing. Huh.
I was even kind of okay with them until you guys started commenting on my other post about maggots and mealworms and tadpoles that never turn into frogs. And I started to think more about the crickets I was going to have to feed those tadpoles
when if they turned into frogs.
And then I started to get nervous and remembered how I used to work for a pet supply store where the only animals we sold were crickets and how I used to live in fear that someone would ask for a bag of crickets while I was the only one at the register because it’s completely unprofessional to scream and jump around when someone says, “I’d like five crickets, please,” but have you ever tried to select five crickets from a terrarium full of the little monsters and I think it’s on me…is it on me?…oh my God, I THINK THERE ARE CRICKETS ON ME!*
Leticia from TechSavvyMama did
warn me not to put them in with fish suggest that I feed them to fish, which is a great idea until the tadpoles are gone and then I have to find something to eat the fish. And I think that frogs might eat fish, although I’m not sure, so I could get frogs (ah, the irony), but then who’s going to eat the frogs? So I followed that thought through all the animals I’d need to its logical conclusion and who’s going to eat the crocodile, Leticia? Did you think about who’s going to eat the crocodile?
But then sometimes because of the contours of the tadpole habitat, it’s hard to see the little guys (named Yoda and Skywalker, by the way) and I start to get hopeful and think, “Are they dead? Can I cancel my crocodile order?” and then they calmly swim into view.
I do have to say that they’re kinda cute.
even nerdier than gerbil photography.
A few minutes ago I found the two of them cuddled together in the shallow water on the shores of Dagobah. I tried to take a photo, but it seems that tadpoles are easily spooked.
And if one day they get less cute, it turns out they are incredibly easy to kill, and the irresponsible instruction sheet even tells you how to do it. Evidently, these guys need to live in distilled spring water or bad things happen.
I’m sure there will be more on the tadpoles because, well, because how could there not be? But right now I have to go inspect their mini-Dagobah because you’re not supposed to feed them if they still have food in their tank, so I didn’t feed them for a couple of days and then it occurred to me that the bits on the bottom of the tank was probably tadpole poop instead of bits of food and my poor little guys were probably starving.
So now I have to figure out how to walk the fine line between starving tadpoles and overfeeding them as well as contemplate how to clean their tank of all the tadpole poop. Or excess food.
It might be an all-nighter, people.
* I know I’ve used this joke before, but it’s sort of the regular state of terror in which I live. I’m sure you’ll see it again.