The Worminators

I have written on several occasions about how my children on occasion, oh, what’s the right way to say it -- lock horns in an epic battle royale with the sole goal of annihilation.
They’re siblings. They fight sometimes. I did with my sisters, and I am sure you did with your siblings, unless you were an only child, in which case you never got to experience the emotion of having to have the exact same thing that someone else had all of the time. Case in point: When my kids go swimming, the only pool toy they want is the one the other one has. There are roughly 500 various floats and noodles and balls and such out there, but rest assured, if one grabs the Finding Nemo kickboard, that is the ONLY toy around.
So anywho, I was pleased the other evening when I finally found something to bring my children together. And you can have all of your fancy parenting magazines and coping techniques and generous bribery moments to bring harmony into your house. But if you really want to find a new blissful sibling union, ask yourself this: “Have you gone worm stomping?”
We were sitting at my parents’ house, enjoying a nice evening on the deck. My dad noted that it had rained earlier in the day, and that the ground was damp. “You know, I wanna try something,” he said, standing from his chair and grabbing a broom. Sweeping, I thought. Not the most over-the-top daredevil attempt, but try away.
Instead, he took a few steps into the yard, turned the broom upside down and began pounding it on the ground. After about 10 seconds, the earth began to move. Big, long worms started to break the surface, wiggling around in the moist soil.
Most of us had heard of some variation of bringing worms to the surface, but we had never actually tried it. My guess is that this is probably something that plenty of folks know, and that somewhere there is an old farmer who would have eyed us with an amused look, whistled for his trusty horse to come up to commence stomping its hoof, bring the bait to the surface.
I decided to take a turn. Same results. Parker was having a field day, grabbing the worms and putting them in a small box nearby. Allie was being a cautious observer and occasional worm spotter for Parker. After find success with the broom, we tried several other techniques, such as (a) putting a metal pole in the ground and taping it with a hammer, (b) stomping my foot and (c) yelling “COME HERE, WORMS!!!!” The metal pole and worm calling were ineffective. The stomping method brought worms up, but you can guess what happened a few stomps later.
Although we had seen successes, we were not totally sure how we could quantify our results. Ten worms? Twenty? Clearly, this needed some scientific study. We picked out a nice little plot that was about one square foot. I began pounding with the broom, and the worms came gushing. At this point, there were so many, everyone was grabbing worms and putting them in a small mason jar, which was soon full. We transferred the worms into a cigar box and decided it was time to figure out what our haul was. Allie and Parker formed a worm counting team. Parker would take one worm out and transfer it to another box, and Allie would record the tally.
She gave us updates throughout the count, usually on the tens, but occasionally other intervals (“We’re at 27 — TWENTY SEVEN!!!!”) When they were done, Allie and Parker came over to announce the tally — 71 earthworms. Or, as I told them, enough for breakfast AND lunch.
Now, you may think that the idea of grabbing 71 earthworms is not your cup of tea. And you may be right. Of course, to me, filthy, slimy hands mean you’ve had some fun. The kids definitely have a new hobby, and we have tried out hand worm stomping a few other places. You will be able to tell quickly if they are around, because they come right out to greet you. Keep at it, and when you find a place where the soil is moist and loose and crawling with worms, you’ll be amazed at the ease of bringing them up. It’s enough to make you forget about the Finding Nemo kickboard.