It had taken two days of digging, but Scott finally had a small cup full of worms. He only kept the best ones - long and fat and slimy. This cup of worms was his best yet. He was sure that if worm collecting was an Olympic sport, this cup would be a gold medal winner.
Today was his sister’s birthday. He hated princess parties. Molly had spent all morning picking out the perfect party dress. Then she made Mom do her hair in three different ponytails before deciding it looked “right”. Whatever. Hair is hair. But the worst part came when the other girls showed up. Ugh! Could a party be more boring?
He was determined to liven things up. What they needed was a little more action. That’s why he was sitting on his favorite branch of his favorite tree, carefully holding his gold medal cup of worms. All he needed was for some of those girly girls to come a little bit closer. He knew they would eventually, because Molly’s tire swing hung just a few branches over.
Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Molly and a couple of her friends headed his way. “This is going to be too cool.” he whispered to himself. “I’m sneaky like a ninja. And nobody can see a ninja when he doesn’t want to be seen.”
He waited, rolling the cup between his palms to loosen the dirt. His tongue flicked in and while he concentrated. When the girls reached the swing, he chose his target, took careful aim, and dumped. He smiled as he watched it fall. This was gonna be good.
The cup hit its target perfectly.
Molly screamed and started jumping around. She must really like my worms, he thought. He hurried down from the tree so she could thank him.
Molly’s hair and the shoulders of her pink dress were piled with dirt and dotted with worms. She hopped about, shaking her brown ponytail like it was on fire or something. Dirt and worms flew everywhere, hitting the girls who had scattered. Before he knew it, they were screaming too. Was it possible the girls might not be as happy about the worms as he thought?
“Molly, what’re you freaking out about? They’re just worms. If we hurry, we can pick them up again and have a worm fight.” Molly burst into tears and her friends screamed even louder.
He turned and saw his dad marching their way. Mom wasn’t far behind him, hurrying across the grass. She had that panicked look on her face; the one she always has when somebody gets hurt.
“Geez. It’s only a few worms.” he mumbled.