© Bruce Goodman 4 August 2015
Lachlan had a worm farm. This was a layered cylindrical plastic container where the worms fed on household scraps. They created a magnificent compost for the garden.
These worms required little to no care, but Lachlan spent hours looking and caring for them.
His wife complained that he cared more for the worms more than he did her.
“That’s true,” said Lachlan. And it was true. He did.
Then one day Mrs What-ever-her-name-was-I-can’t-remember, Lachlan’s wife, upped and left. When he went to bed that night, Lachlan found all the worms wriggling between the sheets. Lachlan made a mental note: when the divorce comes through he’d make sure she got half of everything. He might even throw in some rotten stinking kitchen scraps for free.
The early bird catches the worm….. but the early worm is in big trouble.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There’s no way he will be able to wriggle his way out of this one.
LikeLike
So, the worm turned…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Why did the worm turn? Because it CAN.
LikeLiked by 2 people
It’s a worm-eat-worm world.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, and a worm in the hand is worth two in the bush.
LikeLike
One worm in the hand is one worm too many.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wish it worm so.
LikeLike
The wife opened a can of worms
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL! I’m lost for worms!
LikeLike
Next thing you know, Bruce will be getting all worm and fuzzy….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Get too worm and you’ll need to cool down with an ice-squirm.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I cannot match the above comments 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank goodness you can’t Sylvie! I need a break!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sylvie can be the one adult in the room 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I seem to attract those who gravitate towards purity… I mean puerility.
LikeLike
LOL! Actually worms are kinda neat…Will you ever write about a happy couple???
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL I usually only write fiction! But you have inspired me – I shall write some happy family ones, but they probably won’t appear until around November!
LikeLike
Oh no! What a dreadfully sad, sad story. Now he has to start his compost all over again! Or he can just go fishing all the live long day!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You know how to turn things around! It was particularly sad when one of the worms didn’t survive the experience.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Someone in that household was bound to suffer through that split up!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s the long and the short of it…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Our Newark plumber used to dig worms out of our compost, to use as fishing bait
LikeLiked by 1 person
There goes that plumber again. Compost worms today, roses tomorrow.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My grandad and I used to go out in the dark to dig worm-bait the night before a dawn-light fishing trip on the lake. We called those worms nightcrawlers.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve never heard of the term – albeit a family term – “nightcrawlers”. And I’ve never gone fishing with worms. In fact, I’ve never gone fishing, except for eels. Eeling simply required a small piece of meat tied in a knot on a string. The eel would swallow the meat and knot whole, and then you could pull them up out of the water.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I always hated to put a worm on a hook, but I did it. When I was ten and out on the lake in a rowboat with my (also ten) girlfriend, fishing, she refused to put a worm on the hook and was fishing with no bait…(how dumb did she think the trout were?) At one point she swung her fish line wide and the hook caught in my arm…the rest of that day was not at all pretty….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank goodness there was no worm on the hook, otherwise you would’ve got worms. You seem to have been a regular Huckleberry Finn!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes….a Huckleberry Finnesse…
LikeLiked by 1 person
! Huckleberry Finnette !
LikeLike