The Wonderful World of Worms

On Saturday morning, Tom and Olivia awoke to the grisly news that there was a power cut, so the TV and computer were off. Mummy quietly hid their Nintendo DS’s on top of the wardrobe, and watched with amusement as panic took hold of her children. “There’s nothing to doooo”, wailed Tom. “I’m so boooored”, whined Olivia.

For the next hour, Tom and Olivia refused to read, draw, play or stop squabbling. Mummy decided that one hour of torture was enough for her, and pushed them outside into the garden. They sulked in silence for a while, with hands in pockets and moods like thunder.

They wandered down the garden to the shed behind the willow tree. Out came rusty scooters, too-small bikes and a yellow sit-on tractor from the toddler years. “Clear the path, let’s race!” yelled Tom. Next they hunted for buckets brought home from the beach last summer, rinsed the mud off with the outside tap, and sorted them into castle-shaped and plain. The children found beach spades too, and filled the buckets with stones and dead ferns, mushy from April showers. “I’m cooking robber food!” announced Olivia.

Mummy put on her coat and brought biscuits and hot chocolate, made with cold milk as the kettle didn’t work. She then darted back in the house to tell her sister on the phone all about the miracle that was unfolding outside: “The children are playing nicely”, she gasped, “in the garden!” Re-fuelled, the children set off on a bug-hunt. They found snails, earwigs and woodlice that hide under plant pots. They scooped them up gently and put them in their “zoo” – a cardboard box lined with earth and leaves to hide under.

Then they remembered worms. Oh joy, worms, juicy wriggly creatures that you have to dig for. Fat, thin, long, short, fast, curly or tiny, the garden’s unfortunate worm population kept Tom and Olivia entertained all the way to lunchtime. After lunch, Mummy found a brand new nature book from the Christmas before last, and the three of them matched leaves in the garden with leaves in the pictures. They looked for Britain’s most common birds too, but didn’t find any.

On Sunday morning, the power cut was over. The computer and TV spluttered, un-noticed, back to life. Tom and Olivia, who had slept late after all the fresh air the day before, scrambled into their Wellington boots. “We’re going to make a den outside!” they shrieked, and disappeared. Mummy put the kettle on and left the Nintendo DS’s where they belonged – on top of the wardrobe.