I am sitting next to ten tadpoles.
They, I will admit, are not sitting quite so still. Nor, may I add, are there only ten tadpoles in the six-litre tupperware that they are glad (can tadpoles be glad?) to call home. Oh no. They have a support cast, if you will, of bizarre water woodlice. I have tried very hard to like these strange creatures, but their conversation is distinctly lacking and besides, they look like this:
That was in fact a deep-sea isopod – I think ‘deep sea’ there might be a tautology but I am about as up on the correct terms for marine life as I am on street slang for weaponry.
Anyway, we are waiting for the tadpoles to get legs. WITH BAITED BREATH.
Ladies and Gents, can you tell its exam term?