Joshua is obsessed with all things creepy crawly. Both of the big boys are, really, but especially Josh. He relishes the attempt to swat a fly. He gushes over every little ant. He swoons at the sight of ladybugs. And he thinks worms are "cute." Cute? Ok, Josh.
As our backyard has yet to dry out, there are ample opportunities to find big, juicy worms in the yard. And there is no hesitation to pick them up, fondle them endlessly, let them dry out, and even pull them apart (despite Mommy's pleas to put them in the garden). My sentiments: YUCK. I am no worm lover. And yet I must refrain from cringing at the sight of squirmy worms, being thrust into my face by my over-enthusiastic toddlers who really want me to love them as much as they do. I must feign excitement, lest they pursue me with them even more because they know I am NOT a fan (they get a kick out of that stuff - very boy behavior). So I pretend to like worms (but I try not to touch them).
Here is one such occasion:
I have so many years to endure this stuff...