The opening of the pool this week led to a massacre of tadpoles. There was really no way to avoid it. Ashley and I uncovered the pool earlier this week, and we were absolutely stunned to find hundreds and hundreds of giant tadpoles calling the pool their home. Wednesday evening I decided that since I've always wanted to be "tadpole king," I might as well get in the water and befriend them. So I chilled on the pool's underwater steps and let them swarm against me. They liked my warmth and nibbled at my skin. Because the tadpoles were in all stages of transformation into frogs, Amanda and I were able to create a "circle of life" out of the first round of tadpoles to die from the chlorine Ashley was dumping into the pool. She fished out the rest before the pool cleaners swung by on Thursday; she weighted down a whole jumbo-sized garbage bag with tadpoles, and even by Friday night the bag still writhed about. It was creepy.
Maybe that's why Ashley's suffered some tadpole nightmares.
She feels guilty for throwing them in the trash.
(I don't think calling her "tadpole Hitler" helped the situation)
(she forgave me the comment; she knows I'm on a WW2 kick)
Last night she dreamt that the Mom & Dad came by the house to find her.
"They were the size of bowling balls, and they were intent to avenge their babies."
She called for me to help, and I looked at them and told her I'd take care of it.
"But find me some dissecting tools," I said, grabbing an axe and heading outside.
That is something I would say.
In other news, I look pretty good in Ashley's pink robe:
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| this is for my "pretty in pink" audition. (I'm making you a pin-up, Blake!) |
1 comment:
When I hear tadpole Hitler, I think of a tadpole that looks like Hitler.
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