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The short and woeful tale of tadpoles that died on a dry, dusty road

The short and woeful tale of tadpoles that died on a dry, dusty road

TADPOLES... will always remind me of a “minor” incident I had to forgive my mum for...
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When I was 7yrs & we were living in the Solomon Islands.. our family went to a popular riverside spot for a picnic. I was delighted to discover the edges of the banks absolutely teeming with clouds of black tadpoles. I found an old tin and scooped it through, collecting at least a dozen. I was thrilled, I had always wanted a pet and now I had found a way to have multiple pets, and for free?! What luck!

On the car ride home I cradled the tin carefully - and planned. What vessel would I transfer them into at home? ..where I would place them - probably in my room? Yes, then I could look at them every night. Should I name them..? But how would I tell them apart? I’m sure I would get to know them, yeah.

For some reason mum was sitting in the back with me. “Look, mum”, I smiled, proudly showing her the tin, the water bouncing, tadpoles darting around. She would be so proud of my efforts and resourcefulness. .
Mum looked down and gasped - clearly she’d not been aware of what had taken place. With one seemingly-fluid and swift movement she wound the window down, snatched the tin and tossed it out…
I sat up and turned back - I saw the tin make its last bounce and roll slowly to the edge... as we moved further away rapidly I could just make out the small trail of water it left on the dusty dirt road. “My tadpoles”, I whispered “what an horrific end to your day, my dear tadpoles” (well that’s what I’d say now, I think more accurately I was speechless)

I turned to mum. She gazed nonchalantly straight ahead as the car continued along on the the pot holed road. .
Iridescent tears rolled down my cheeks as I turned and looked out my own window. .
A “minor” incident, yet “major” for the heart of a seven year old.

I can smile about my tadpole memory now.

Love you mum, and I hope my kids forgive me too for my (too-regular) knee-jerk reactions.

Abducted by dad - part 1/2

Abducted by dad - part 1/2

Celebrating Pacific & Western differences (Part 2/2)

Celebrating Pacific & Western differences (Part 2/2)