The screen door creaks open and I hear the familiar sound of little feet running down the hallway.
"Mommy, I need to wash my hands."
I think this an unusual request because that action isn't something she usually announces, but I decide to wait to see what develops.
Listening carefully, I can hear the water running in the bathroom with some muffled discussion. Since she's an only child, talking to herself isn't that unusual but after the water has been running a mysteriously long time, I begin to speak. Suddenly the water shuts off. Closing my mouth to listen, I hear nothing. All is quiet. I can almost hear her brain grinding trying to decided what to do. And then I hear,
"Mommy, look what I found."
A little panic rises in my stomach when a think about all the things that she could have dragged into the bathroom to wash. Swallowing hard, I ask her to come in and show me.
Oh, thank goodness. It's only an earthworm. A nice, harmless earthworm who has just suffered the ultimate earthworm humiliation of being forced into a bath. Poor worm!
"Oh, yes!
Very nice, Miss G.
Were did you find him?
Oh, yes, that is a good spot.
Thank you for showing him to me.
No, it's okay. I don't need to hold him.
Now, please take him back to his home so he's safe and sound."
After you have imagined the worst, a little earthworm dirt in your bathroom sink seems like a very MINOR inconvenience.
