You Can’t Worm Your Way Out of This One

Last night I called Selah inside from the kids’ dirt play to get her ready for her night of pretending to be Eleanor Roosevelt at a wax museum.

Which is itself a little odd I guess.

Anyway, I started brushing her hair so I could put it up under her hat. It’s always very tangly so a lot of brushing is required.

As I brushed, something shot into the air from her hair, and I thought, “Oh no, a mosquito!” since giant, birdlike mosquitoes are suddenly everywhere around here after the rains.

But then I was relieved because it was just a rubber band.

I mentioned the flying object and how I thought it was a mosquito, and she said, “Haha, yeah, what WAS that?” And she pointed to where the rubber band had fallen on the floor in front of her and to the side.

We looked at it while I kept brushing. But it was a little thicker than a rubber band, and it wasn’t a complete circle, more like a piece of string.

Or…

wait…

IT MOVED

IT WAS A WORM

Selah took this surprisingly well.  She did seem surprised, but she did not fuss, and simply took the still living, still intact worm outside.

As my friend said, “There are two ways one can behave when a worm flies out one’s hair. A lady always chooses dignity.”

Perhaps she was channeling Eleanor Roosevelt.

 

Eleanor Roosevelt

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