Earthworms like to die on the parking lots of funeral home and churches.

I rescued an earthworm today.  It's been raining in that soaking sort of way and the worms came out searching for some solace after their homes have been flooded.  Most of them die exposed, like little pink noodles scatter across the walkways.  That's why I was surprised to see one inching it's way towards the grass.  So surprised, in fact, that I was moved by compassion to lift it's limp form and place it among a few verdant blades.  Sarah is the one who is compassionate in our family, not me.  She is the one who cares for our cat even though he strives to find secret places to defecate and urinate around the house.  She is the one who cries at baptisms and funerals of people she never even knew.  I, on the other hand, feel like kicking our cat and for some unbeknownst reason feel like laughing while other people are grieving.  I understand...I'm a horrid person...but I rescued an earthworm today.