Worming Woes

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By Patti Parish-Kaminski, Publisher

There I was having a leisurely Sunday with Mr. Kaminski when the invasion happened.  It happened in my kitchen of all places, and I was shook to say the least.

I commenced to hollering at Mr. Kaminski to no avail as he was watching television.  When that happens, there are invisible tenacles that reach out and attach his brain to said device omitting every other sound and circumstance in the universe.  With the hollering not being effective, I gathered up the insect invasion and went into the den.

“What is this?” I demanded.  “Why are there worms in this glass in my kitchen?”

Now granted a few years ago when my babies were home, I wouldn’t have been so startled.  I would have immediately gone to a science project inclusion or the fact that they talked their daddy into buying some other critter that required worms for food.  But since my babies are grown and flown, there was no logical explanation for a glass full of worms –  in my kitchen no less.

“I have no idea,” as I pushed them as close to his face as possible.

I understand we live out in Green Acres now, but really?  Worms in the kitchen?

“I did not put worms in a glass in my kitchen, and no one else currently resides here,” I challenged.

The glass in question came from an animal fundraising event that a girlfriend attended on my behalf as a table host.  She had just given me the glasses the night before, but I couldn’t reconcile the fact that an animal event would give away live worms as swag, right?

I insisted Mr. Kaminski take a photo so I could text it to Cee Cee.

“What the actual hell?!?  Worms in my kitchen?!?  It could only be Cee Cee,” was the terse message I sent along with the photo.

Apparently according to my wildlife wonder of a friend, the insect infiltrators were mealworms.

“Oh my Lord!  That’s hysterical!” she replied.  “Some of my bluebirds’ mealworms decided to escape.  Sorry about that.  I’m not sure how they climbed up into that bag.”

Now Cee Cee is like Snow White.  She actually calls the deer on her property along with the birds, and they come to her.  It’s fairy tale stuff.

Apparently, she purchased 10,000 mealworms and received another 10,000 free mealworms, and they were in her car.  I cannot even fathom where one would purchase mealworms.  Her rationale was that she had to get enough food for everyone.  She was tickled.  She got a deal.

“Do you still love me?” was her query.

“Love you.  The worms?  Not so much – and 20,000 worms in your car?  I am never riding with you again,” was my response.

Just another Sunday.  See y’all next week – on the porch!

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Patti Parish-Kaminski

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