I am not. Tadpoles are such fun.
We had three ponds. The closest to the house was big, two acre surface area. It was for fishing, it had at least two kinds of frogs. Another was a comfortable hike away, and was small. It was shallow, and always full of frogs. The third was far enough from the house I only saw it a few times. It was never more than a foot deep, but never dried up. The mud was treacherous and deeper than anyone knew. An underground source kept it wet and was like quicksand. Cows disappeared there.
One summer I went to the little one for tadpoles, the fat kind, not the little black ones. I got forty. They spent the summer in a puddle close to the house. It gave me a chance to watch their gradual metamorphosis. It was cool, and I’m glad I got that opportunity.
Fully transformed, it was only a hop, skip, and jump over the hill to the big pond.
It was more fun than a koi pond. Tiny feet sprouted, then legs gradually pushed the feet further from its body. Meanwhile, their tails got smaller and smaller. A face evolves from having a mouth like a goldfish, to widening across.
I kept a journal of the changes I noticed each day.
School just doesn’t do things like that for kids.
The amount of fun you can get from a bucket of tadpoles is directly related to what facilities one has for keeping them alive.
Also, they torment kitty.