Lizzy Got a Pet!

Yes, it’s true. In a moment of madness I emailed Lizzy's teacher and said that we’d take one of the class’ tadpoles home. In what I can only see as foreshadowing, I forgot to send in a container for Lizzy to bring it home in. I washed out a peanut container for Lizzy to put the future frog in and when I looked at it my stomach got queasy; because yes, I really am that much of a wimp.

I went on the internet to find out what tadpoles eat. Internet, I found out frogs can climb out of their containers! If I had known that, someone else would have been the proud owner of a future frog. But I didn’t.

The poor, little, creepy tadpole didn’t have anything to eat so I went to the pet store and asked for help. I bought a HUGE glass aquarium because Pet’s Mart assured me the frog couldn’t climb out of one that big (Pet’s Mart, if he does get out of it I will call you and scream at you over the phone!). By this time, I was partially mentally deranged and told the cashier I didn’t like pets. He looked at me, considered kicking me out of the store and removing the tadpole from my care but decided to let me buy the frog supplies and hope for the best.

Lizzy was thrilled at her tadpole’s new digs. But Jake was worried. When Bri was three she won a gold fish. I accidentally killed it when I put it in regular tap water. Bri still remembers this and occasionally brings it up. (I did learn from that about the dangers of chlorine. However, I prefer not to kill something to learn the next lesson.) Jake was pretty concerned about the life span of the tadpole and warned me, “Mom, don’t kill it like you did Bri’s gold fish!”

I’ll try not to, but it’s already creeping me out. Today while I was doing yard work I almost touched a frog and started screaming -- loudly. And what are we going to do with the frog while we’re gone on vacation for three weeks? You guessed it. Marcy is frog sitting.