My granddaughters, ages three and four, spot and pluck insects and worms from the grass with the precision of a starving-bird. My neighbor with the Venus Flytrap encourages them. I usually do my best to look away since I'm not a fan of slimy, crawly creatures.
Today, the girls built their insect castle of stones, sticks, dirt, and grass a few feet from my chair. I couldn't help but get involved.
Fiona stared at her opened palm. Tatum leaned closer to see what her older sister found so interesting.
"Is that my roly-poly's head?" Tatum asked with a hint of sadness.
Fiona squinted, her nose almost touching her hand. "Where?"
"Right there." Tatum pointed to a smudge near her sister's wrist. "By the green chalk."
Fiona twisted her hand to view the speck from different angles. She studied thoroughly before making her announcement. "No, silly. It's a baby caterpillar. Or an ant." She moved Tatum back a step and blew the grass cover off the castle. "There's your roly-poly. I think you stepped on it."
Tatum scooped up the bug. "I'm sorry," she said, hugging him to her chest.
Fiona placed her baby caterpillar or ant on a leaf bed and pulled Tatum's arm down to examine the wounded roly-poly. "I think she's dead," she pronounced. "You should release her so her mom can find her."
It was Tatum's turn to squint. "She's not dead." She studied her palm. "Look. She's slobbering."
Fiona amended her diagnosis. "She's going to die if you don't get her some food."
They admitted the roly-poly to a private room in the castle-turned-hospital, went inside, and returned with food. Together, they crumbled a soda cracker in what was left of the hospital after they each stepped on it, and left the infirmed to eat while they followed a million-legged, hairy, crawly thing making his escape down the walk.
I looked up from my book a short time later and noticed the cracker crumbs also making their get-away, in a slow convoy across the lawn. The girls spent the next twenty minutes watching ants haul crumbs home to the hill. Meanwhile, Gramma traded out the slobbering roly-poly for a fresh one.
In special circumstances, I can manage a roly-poly or a lightening bug, even if they're drooling.
E.B. let me know roly-poly is the correct spelling for the pill bug, so I have edited this article. I googled rolly polly when writing this, and found both spellings. However, after hearing from E.B. and looking again, I realize the rolly polly entries had probably been written by people like me, since The American Heritage<sup>®</sup> Dictionary of the English Language: Fourth Edition. 2000 uses roly-poly. Thanks, E.B.
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Comments: 38
Question though: is the first sentence grammatically correct since 2 girls (plural) are behaving like a starving bird (singular)
Drool is good. Diapers? Well, drool is good.
Wonderful read.
Also, are you going to be doing another writing exercise and lesson article soon? We look forward to another opportunity to sit at your feet on little carpet squares and learn 'bout writin'.
This had me smiling from ear to ear when I was through. I love it when kids play with their imagination. It's usually the simple things around them that bring hours of enjoyment rather than those expensive toys they've begged for on their wish lists.
My sons used to put roly polies in their pockets when we lived in CA. Laundry back then was always an exciting chore ;)
Our aversion to creepy-crawlys is not inherent, it is learned like all prejudices.
Is a roly-poly the same as a doodle bug?
I liked this sentence.
I looked up from my book a short time later and noticed the cracker crumbs also making their get-away, in a slow convoy across the lawn.
You definitely have a way with words.
These girls come about their bug attraction naturally. Their mother was the same, maybe worse. Last year I bought a fly-swatter and I keep it hidden because I know she'd cry if she saw it in my house. She catches and releases bugs. When she was about their age, she would find a pet insect (usually an ant) and spend the day with it. We'd laugh until we were almost sick as we watched her take her pet (usually named Linda) over, place it on a swing, and push for a while before moving it to the whirly bird. I caught her bathing a Linda in the bathroom sick once. I stopped laughing and thinking she was cute when she started bringing in snakes and iguanas and racoons and squirrels...
Your story reminded me of my own Grandmother. She would let me go in the yard for hours, watching bugs, following lizards and chasing the barn cats. Your grand babies will definitely remember you fondly to their children.
Thanks for the story, and thanks for being my friend.
Cena, let's hope none of us see many slobbering roly-poly's. They usually protect themselves. I think this castle might have needed a better moat.
Thanks Sandy.
Rushmore, Your comment eases my conscience. I had planned to swim with them that day but felt positvely horrid and couldn't do it. I sat in the chair with my book, wishing I felt like 'doing' something with them, but glad they did seem to be having a good time without me. It ended up their conversation made me feel a whole lot better.
It is fascinating to look through children's eyes at the world around them. I remember watching my little grandson the first time he held a leaf in his hands. He marveled at it and I thought, how far away from marveling I had come in my years. I sat on the ground with him and together we studied the leaf. A treasured memory I will always have.