Cass did NOT want to do this. Last year the Worm Race had happened right after his Papa died, so he sat that one out, and this year....this year he had no interest in competing.
But it was so neat, you see. So absolutely small-town and rural and quaint, and exciting for the kids. When else can you take a small container of dirt to school and not have your teacher yell at you?
My son's school has had an annual Worm Race for over forty years. It's exactly what it sounds like - long stripes of wet dirt across the gym floor, a worm at one end, the finish line at the other. Lots of hooting and hollering, clapping and cheering.
Rosey was right out there in the yard, dragging a shovel and her father out, plotting where the fastest worms might hide, deciding where to dig. Cass dragged his heels a bit, but his interest perked up when he held two in his hand.
(Both went with two worms - one to use and a spare, in case someone else's special worm didn't want to run.)
So off they went.
that's a third place medal right there.
He's marked the spot where we let the worms go, planning to re-capture his Wormy next year....