Sophia, has a true fear of worms. I mean the kind of fear where, when planting and a worm pops out, she will startle, scream, and climb on my back, smacking me in the face with dirt clods dripping off her shovel still in her hand.
This fear does not stop her from purely enjoying planting flowers in a pot, with bagged, worm-free soil. Last spring she was concerned about the white balls of fertilizer in the soil.
"That's gross," she told me.
"What's gross?" I asked.
"The flower poop."
This year, our potted flowers had another issue. They threw up.
I sprayed too much water in a newly planted pot and the dirt overflowed.
"Oh no," Sophia said shaking her head. "It threw up."
"They don't have mouths. It didn't throw up." I informed her.
"Miss Deborah says they drink water and eat food in the soil. How do they eat it?"
I really didn't know how to explain that one using the one brain cell I had left at 7:30 PM.
"They just do."