Hi all! Many of you might know me, then again, many of you might not. I’m that quirky girl with two fat cats from Free and Flawed. SFY! (Super F-word Yeah!) I’m so excited to be filling in for Katelin while she’s off being awesome. I’ve been thinking about what I could write about for the last few days. I was going to take this blog vacation to open up a bit more about my current relationship shenanigans, but decided not to bore or bring you down. (I’ll save that for my post on F&F! Ha!)
Two weeks ago when Chicago was having the most beautiful weather we’ve seen in the last six months I was helping (read: watching) my mom work in her yard. I love being outside but don’t really do much once I’m out there. I enjoy the sun burning me as well as the wind blowing all of the exhaust fumes toward me, thus stinking up my hair. C’est Chicago eh? While she was digging in the dirt she found a worm. Normally this wouldn’t be an event I’d recognize, but there are two reasons why this was so special:
1. It was the first worm of the season. Hello warm weather, I’ve missed you!
2. When I was younger I had imaginary worms instead of an imaginary friend.
I’ll wait while you re-read that sentence, laugh, consider removing my blog from your Reader and call me crazy. Waits……
Okay. Yes, it is true. Imaginary worms. Now I don’t know how many there were. I don’t even know if they had names. I honestly don’t remember much about them other than what my family shares with me. I guess I really loved these worms though. I’d carry a handful and offer them to who ever was nearby. Most often that was my grandpa. As I recall these stories, I learn that grandparents give into a child’s imagination a bit too much.
Example #1: My grandpa and I were sitting on the kitchen floor when I decided to leave the room. I asked him to hold my worms and handed them to him. While I was away I was told that he struggled to get up off of the floor because he didn’t want to put the worms down. (Remember, they’re imaginary.)
Example #2: Whenever I would show my worms to my grandma, she would freak out and refuse to hold them. (Remember, imaginary.) She also told me that whenever I picked my nose and ate the booger that worms would grow in my stomach. That was a pretty sucky deterrent seeing as how I apparently loved worms! That definitely did not stop me from eating them.
Years ago my mom found a little ring box in which I put a fuzzy sticker of a green and yellow worm covered with a pink and white polka-dotted blanket. I guess I gave it to her as a gift many moons ago. How adorable was I!? Pretty damn adorable if I do say so myself. As I grew older I moved on from imaginary worms to real worms. My grandpa would spend time in the garden just digging in the dirt so I could find worms to put in my bowl full of dirt. Eventually I grew less fond of worms and more creeped out by their sliminess. I imagine the turning point in our relationship was during a seventh grade Science class. We had to dissect worms and I accidentally crushed all four (five?) of its hearts.
I’m sorry worm :(
Moral of the story: Let your children watch TV so they don’t have imaginary worms. Let’s hope they were all earth worms and not some intestinal worms. Ew.
And for the record, yes I did just spend about 15 minutes writing a post about worms. I’m scratching the bottom of the barrel folks!