Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Forget it, Jake. It's Chinatown.

Several weeks ago (I don't remember the precise date) Boy Two's school celebrated Earth Day.

Some very helpful retirees came over from the local Senior Center and assisted the kindergarteners with various 'green' tasks like planting seeds in paper cups of dirt and things like that.

At the end of the day each child was given not only a planted seed, but their very own worm!  Boy Two was thrilled.  There were very specific instructions about the worm including the tidbit be sure to release your worm into the dirt within two days as worms can't live in little plastic containers and don't make for good pets.  Especially if they aren't fed.  I may or may not have added a few minor embellishments to the instructions.

Fast forward a week and I notice the container sitting on the dresser in the boy's room hidden by a pirate ship, a dinosaur, and a pile of drawings of trains and of wild animals eating each other. 

I promptly forgot about it.

Another week or two goes by until I remember that poor worm and go looking for it on Saturday about three weeks after it came home.

Lo and behold, the boys had discovered the previously misplaced container and had decided to give it a position of authority on the windowsill - possibly so it could get enough light to grow.  How thoughtful.

I did, in fact, open it up and look for the worm in the vain hope that it may have survived the three weeks of humid, recycled air and lack of food and water.

Ironically, either worms decompose quickly when they die or it found a way of escape and is now living in my laundry room because I couldn't find a trace of it in the dirt.

That's a satisfying way to end a story.

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