Little Miss still has a soft spot for worms. She found another one in the garden as I pulled out the last of our bizarrely formed carrots from the now defunct garden.
She cradled it in her hand, talked to it and tried to take it in the house. Then she set him down to paint her pumpkin and decided he’d look nice colored bright pink. And while she painted I told her I thought he’d be happier back in the ground.
She agreed and kept painting while I dropped the now motionless, bright pink worm in the hole where the carrot had been. “Sorry,” I told him. “She meant well. She just loved you a little too much.”
I thought he might have moved a little as I placed some dirt over him.
Hopefully he made it.