So today, Dane leans over and picks up what I think is a dead worm from the driveway. Because I’m, you know, supermommy and all, I go running over to take the carcass from him before it becomes (ugh, shiver) a snack, and as I’m trying to remove it from his sweet toddler hand, it… WIGGLES, Y’ALL. WITH IT’S CREEPY PLUMP WORM HEAD. AND THEN WIGGLES SOME MORE. AND I JUMP BACK AND SCREAM AND LEAVE MY POOR, DEFENSELESS TODDLER HOLDING A PLUMP, WIGGLING, NON-DEAD WORM AND OH MY GOD YALL DID I MENTION WORM.
So. Of course, Dane drops the worm and starts crying, and then my neighbors start laughing HYSTERICALLY (I live in the best neighborhood ON THE PLANET), and then (since my toddler is crying and also, you know, WORM FREE) I pick him up and on we go with our day.
EXCEPT FOR THE PART WHERE I SUCK AS A MOMMY.
Oh y’all. I am so screwed.
WHAT. NOW. MOMMY.