Humor is also a way of saying something serious. - T. S. Eliot

Wednesday, April 13, 2011


Sophia didn't like the organic, spicey-hot doritos I bought.  Ella was eating the chips and called to Sophia, "Sophie! Come here! I have a chip for you.  I got all the hot stuff off it."

I told Ella I didn't like her rubbing all the "hot stuff" off the chip and onto the clean floor and as she handed the chip to Sophia, Ella responded,

"I didn't rub it off.  I licked it off."


I am afraid of worms. I mean, to the point of a panic attack.  I can vividly remember three things from childhood which I believe play a role in my phobia of worms today.
  • Gardening with mom and her chasing me with a worm, "touch it! touch it!"
  • When mom and dad had a pool put in their backyard, I sat watching the men dig the hole with their equipment. I felt something cool sliding across my foot and looked down to find a worm on my sandalled foot and when I shook my foot, the worm didn't immediately come off.  Oh god. 
  • After a rainstorm, all of the second-graders were sent out to the playground for recess, myself included.  One of the bully-jerks decided he would pick up worms and throw them at people.  T-E-R-R-I-F-Y-I-N-G.  One landed in a good friend's hair and became tangled in her hair.  She ran inside screaming to the teacher who was also hesitant to touch it and pull it out.  By the time I caught up with her, they had found the janitor to pull the worm out. 
This past wknd it rained.  The worms came out. It got sunny.  The worms then dried up and died.   Ella carried the dead worms around.  I did not know she was into touching worms and as I was about to touch her arm, I realized she was holding worms.  I screamed automatically which sent Dave running out to find out why I, then the girls were all screaming.

"Don't teach them it's ok to be a pansy-girl."

Pffft.  Whatevah.

Dave will be happy to know that their preschool teacher brought in a tub of live worms to the preschool classroom today so they could pet them, hold them, talk to them -- whatever floated their boats, they could do.

This was all the inspiration my twins needed to un-do the "Don't touch the worms" policy I have at my house.  The twins came home and happily dug in the dirt piling worm upon worm and chatting happily.

It took all I had not to run screaming and crying. Then every whisper of the wind, every brush of fabric on my skin as I moved seemed to be a worm touching me.  My nerves are shot. 

Really. I'm not making that up.  Any of it.  I will cry, scream and run at the sight of a toad, snake or worm.  Can't help it. 

Happy to be a pansy

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