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