Genocide at the Water Park

Folks, I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but every spring, babies are murdered by the millions at pools around the country. No one is even discussing this horrific occurrence. Why aren’t people fighting for their right to develop legs!?

That’s right. I’m talking about tadpole murder.

Last Thursday, my kids had no school. It’s prime water park clean-up time, so I took them over and let them run around and catch tadpoles while I got some work done. The pool was being drained, so when they asked to take the tadpoles home, I filled a cup with as many as I could scoop in. We currently have 30-something tadpoles living in a tote on our back patio. I feel like the dentist in Finding Nemo–We found these little guys, swimming around in a gunky pool. And we SAVED them!

Well, my kids did. I just gave them a new home.

I had to!!! They were going to be sucked through a giant hose and end up in a sewer! Or worse!!!

Yesterday, I discovered the “worse.”

As I brushed and scrubbed dried leaves up from the empty pool, I uncovered the horror. The Kermits that will never be. It was pretty sad.


How could it possibly get worse, I’m sure you’re all thinking. I came across a puddle full of the lucky little tadpoles, who fate managed to save. Except, of course that the puddle was rapidly evaporating, and they were going to suffer the fate of their friends (who, by the way, basically MELTED into the pool surface. They will require a good amount of pressure washing to remove). I struggled with the dilemma: do I attempt to save more tadpoles, or do I just let them be sacrificed to the Aquatics Gods?

By the end of my shift, no tadpoles had survived the horrific scene. I pictured frogs outside the fence, with their little picket signs, protesting for the fair treatment of their babies.

Of course, then I started thinking about lifeguard shirts. Obviously, right?! Well, yes, because only a few weeks ago, after my supervisor announced that they wanted to redesign the staff shirts, I went looking for ideas. I Googled, “Lifeguard Shirt.” As I was scrolling along, I stumbled upon a shirt with an image in the center of the cross that is usually found on lifeguard shirts. “Ooh fun, what is that a picture of…oh my gosh, that’s a fetus.” With a whole long list of what the “Life Guards” do. They probably won’t save you if you’re drowning, but they WILL let you know all about how they want to save the lives of all fetuses out there.  My eye roll at this discovery was so violent, I’m sure it was audible. Nothing says, “you are a human incubator” more than fighting for fetus rights, over women’s rights. I am much more heartbroken over the loss of these little tadpoles! Where’s the Pro-Amphibian-Rights group!?

Of course, I suppose you could put a tadpole in the center of a Lifeguard Cross, but honestly, people would probably think you were protecting the rights of sperm. “Making sure no man has to suffer the torment of a vasectomy. Save the Sperm.” No, that definitely does not belong on a shirt. I can just imagine every crusty white man in politics, wearing such a shirt and fighting for the wrong swimmers. WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE HERE FOR THR TADPOLES!!!

Behind our house is an area Justin and I call “The Danger Zone.” It’s a giant fenced in area with multiple DANGER signs posted around it. And it floods every time it rains. The runoff from the neighborhood and surrounding areas is directed there. It rains, The Danger Zone becomes a giant pond, and then for as many nights as that pond chooses to stick around, frogs hang around looking for love. IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES!!! When I stand outside and say, “don’t do it, froggies!” Justin gives me weird looks. When I tell him someone should really hang a sign, warning the frogs that this area only temporarily becomes a pond, he asks, “what is wrong with you!?” It is not a good place to have babies. Unless you’re that frog who has decided she’s just not ready to have tadpoles of her own. Maybe The Danger Zone is more like an amphibious Planned Parenthood. 

No matter what the situation our mommy frog found herself in, we were more than happy to take these tadpoles home. Xander can’t wait for them to grow legs. I can’t wait for one of them to learn how to play the banjo so he can sing “The Rainbow Connection.” Obviously.