Martin helped me clean up the flower bed yesterday, taking all the jobs that required digging in dirt.  He was a big helper until he found a worm.  He and the worm developed a fast friendship.  "This is my friend," he said.  "And his name is Karate."

Martin and Karate couldn't be separated.  Martin took Karate for a wagon ride.  Let him drive his dump truck.  And hung him over his handlebars so that they could go for a bike ride together.


"What's that?" he'd ask, holding the worm up to his ear so that Karate could whisper his worm wishes.  "Karate says he wants to live in my room, mom."  I was saved by dashing his dreams of a new roommate when I heard him yell from the garage.  "Mom!  I broke Karate!  Oh no, he's broken."  Martin and his newly separated friend parted ways as he was returned to the dirt.  Martin placed him near his favorite rock so that he could come back to visit.  Ah, the fast and fleeting friendships of youth.