Miss Munchkin had quite the scare last night while we were walking Penny. Lately she’s taken to picking up leaves, rocks, and sticks, carrying them for a ways and then dropping them as she sees something else more intriguing (rocks, though, quite often get brought home, but that’s a genetic thing – her Uncle David has four boxes of rocks packed and stored back in Alabama!). Last night she was lagging behind Bill and me, merrily picking up sticks, when we heard this heartrending shriek. We looked back and Miss Munchkin was standing stock still, hands up in the air, with a look of terror on her face.
“Worm! Touched Worm!”
A stick she tried to pick up turned out to be a very long worm, which began wriggling the second she touched it. She does not like worms, never has. Frogs are fine, grasshoppers, butterflies, all are fine, but not worms and not caterpillars. The whole rest of the evening she had to tell us over and over again about the worm.
“Touched worm. Me scared. Me don’t like worms. Pick up sticks. Touched worm.”
I am sure we’ll hear about it all day today too, and many days to come. Miss Munchkin tends to fixate on one experience, one idea, for days. I wonder if she’ll be so quick to pick up sticks tonight when we go walking!