The Earthworms and Me

The Earthworms and Me, or, How I Came to be Standing in My Backyard in the Dark with a Flashlight and Pot of Worms

Let me tell you a little story. A few days ago, we attended the Pinewood Derby at a local park. While I stood with Philosopher Child, Husband took Viking Toddler to another part of the park to try his hand at fishing. They returned with no fish, but not for lack of trying. They also returned with a near-full container of worms.

Fast forward. The day after, I asked Husband what his plans were for these worms, as in, did he plan on going fishing in the next day or so? He said no and to go and set the earthworms free. I did.

Enter Philosopher Child. He scooped them back up and put them in another container, then created what he called an exhibit so that everyone could see.

"That's fine," I told him. "But make sure to put them back in the dirt when you are done."

As I put him to bed that night, he asked if I had put his worms in the dirt.

"No. Did you?" I pretty much knew the answer.

"No. I wasn't done with them."

"But now they have no food to eat and no way to get warm," I said.

This thought caused him to burst into tears. I asked him what was wrong and received a resounding, "I love them!"

As patiently as I could muster, I explained to him that earthworms aren't pets in the same way that a dog or cat are.

Our compromise of this situation was that I, in the dark, go out with a flashlight and release the worms into the wild.

Again.