Yesterday, Reilly came in from the backyard, hands cupped in front of her."Look, Mama, look at what I found! It's a baby worm! He's my pet and he's named Timdum!" (or something else that started with a T...I don't remember exactly.)
I look, and sure enough, there's a little, tiny baby worm."Awwww," I say, gazing on the Wiggling Wonder. "How cute! Hey, you wanna throw him in the fish tank?" (We have a large something-or-other type fish that loves "live" food!) I figure, hey, it's a good lesson in nature, right? The food chain in action.
At first she said no, and I was fine with that. No pressure or anything. But then she changed her mind and decided to toss him in.
Declan looks at me, slightly alarmed. "No, Mom! I don't want him to get eaten!" His little bottom lip curls down a bit as he ponders the fate of Tumnus...TinTin? I don't remember...
Anyway, the stoopid fish was too busy looking aggressively at us to pay attention to the bounty we were trying to bestow on him, so Reilly is standing over to the side of the tank, watching her pet worm sink to the bottom. I look, and to my surprise, the worm is...wiggling...on the bottom of the tank.
Now, I'm nothing if not an animal lover, and even though I don't think that worms qualify as animals (even if he was named Tuntor...or whatever), I was a little disturbed at the thought of the worm drowning at the bottom of our fish tank. I mean, it's different to see it sucked into the mouth of a fish - I don't have to watch him...suffer.
At this point, Reilly is getting a little upset, so I asked her if she wanted me to get TomTom (TimTom?) out.
So I grabbed the fish net,dip it in the water, promptly drop it so it starts sinking to the bottom, dunk my arm to the elbow to grab it out, drop the lid of the tank into the water, dunk my arm again to retrieve that, finally get my act together enough to dig around with the net, dodge the fish poop, and retrieve the worm, who was still wiggling in a decidedly panicked manner on the bottom of the BACK of the tank, soaking my arm to the shoulder. (It's a 25 or 30 gallon tank, I think.) Reilly took him back out into the backyard, where I'm sure he promptly wriggled off to tell his friends and family of his near-death experience. (Or maybe he just died of a heart attack from all the stress. I dunno, do worms have hearts?)
I'm sure that Steve Erwin would be proud of my animal savvy!