Here lies Slimy.
A worm who dried up on his way to wetter pastures.
We mourn his passing with heavy hearts and many tears.
(Imagine that here you have a picture of a dead worm, which I didn't actually
take because, well, ewww.)
The other day when we were coming home from preschool we found a worm on the sidewalk and the girls thought he was so cool and they talked to him for a while and named him Slimy and were generally enthralled until it was time to go in for lunch. I thought he would be fine there on the sidewalk so we left him there. But alas, it was a hot day and that little worm just dried right up before he made it to the grass. Being the scientist that I am, I mistakenly showed the dead worm to the girls thinking they would be intrigued and instead they were heartbroken. Ellie was moaning and sort of half-crying and saying, "Why isn't he moving? I love Slimy. Slomy was my best friend. I wanted to throw the ball at him. That was my dream!" and then, "Can we pray for Slimy? Dear God, please make Slimy like he was before."
That night at bed she was still lamenting the untimely passing of her slithering friend. And the next day, still torn up about that worm.
So today we go out to do some yard work. And in all of my excavating of our lawn, trying to get rid of the weeds that have grown everywhere, and the clover that has thoroughly lined only our section of the curb (sorry, neighbors!), I found a whole bunch of new worms for the girls to enjoy. And enjoy them they did. "Our best friends are back!" // "Oh look! It's Slimy! He's my favorite guy!"
And then there was this conversation:
Olivia: "Can we bring him into our house?"
Me: "No, worms like dirt much better than houses."
Olivia: "We can bring some dirt into our house."
Me: "Well, worms like to eat plants. And there aren't any plants for them to eat inside. So they should stay outside in the dirt."
And then a few minutes later she brings over a shovel-full of dirt for her friend Slimy, so he can be happy. And when he wiggles out of the clump of dirt she threw on him, "Hey! He got out of his blanket! I need some more dirt!"
So you know. Now our sidewalk is littered with clumps of dirt. And the worms have been safely returned to their grass so they will survive the night. Because apparently, we love worms. Lots and lots of worms. And worms love us because we so rarely weed our yard or the curb around our sidewalk or do other things worms might not like. So I guess it's a win-win for us and our worm friends. And our neighbors are probably sad that our yard doesn't look as nice and trimmed as theirs do. But whatever. We have the worms on our side.
And here you have some pictures of Henry Bear playing in the dirt. He wasn't as in to the worms as everyone else was. But gosh, he's cute.