I don’t know what worms feel like.
I know what I feel like when I come across them *shudder* .
If I see worms in large numbers I run away and cry in a panic so…yeah. Unless held down and forced to touch one, this is something I’ll always not know!
It started when this highly sensitive person pulled a handful of fake fishing worms out of her dad’s pocket -his attempt to stop me from stealing his gum as a two year old- and I’ve been perpetually icked out by them, ever since!
I wear gloves in the garden at all times. And when I see one, I cover it up with dirt or move it with my shovel. I like worms…like I like any small creature. I realize and appreciate their importance…it’s just…ew!
So, I imagine they feel something like the sticky gummy lips of an old dog with droopy jowls.
The Hubs says they are slimy. I’ll take his word on that, ha!
He’s the resident worm saver. I finally worked up the nerve to save one myself last year – I’m 46- using two very long sticks! I was SO proud! And I once called out a very grateful “thank you!” to a stranger on the street for saving a worm the size of a freaking snake, trapped on the sidewalk. I’d been crying and fighting my revulsion for 5 mins because I wanted to save it…I just couldn’t. Not even with gloves. So that stranger was a hero twice over! ❤ Those wiggly things might gross me out but I don’t wish them any harm.
They seem pretty friendly though: