We have a long sidewalk between our front door and driveway, and on these humid summer mornings, there are always several earthworms that have made their way up onto the concrete and are beginning the process of frying in the sun. I can't stand the thought, and if it looks like they have any chance to make it, I always throw them back into the flowerbed as I walk past.
This morning I left the house with my almost-two-year old daughter. She is sweet and loving; she loves to give hugs and kisses. I am trying to help her learn to respect all living things.
We came upon a big, fat worm still writhing on the warm pavement. I pointed him out to my daughter and told her he needed to be back in the dirt, where his home is. Then I tossed him into the dampest part of our front garden. My angel baby took this all in with fascination.
Her assessment was undeniably accurate and concise: She pointed to the lowly creature and yelled, for the first time ever, "STUPID!!!"
I....uh...not exactly the reaction I was going for, LMAO.