![]() ![]() ![]() No need to panic though, Father Worm in typical parenting style, launches into a lengthy, eye rolling moral lecture that is the last thing any kid, human or annelid, wants to hear. The reader can clearly see it and the tension builds as Mother and Father Worm inspect the plate. But it’s gross, right?!! It’s a big fucking hair in his dinner. ![]() “I HATE BEING A WORM”, he howls as he launches into a full on pity party. The story opens with a young worm boy, objecting with horror to his dirt dinner fouled by a hair. And wow the final scene, that’s one life lesson for Harriet, the dear maiden. I guffawed as I read through it-this is controversial stuff!-how can Larson get away with writing this in today’s touchy-feely and woke atmosphere when we all have to pretend humanity is so special and above Nature’s laws? How did this realistic delivery of Nature reach the New York Times Best Seller list with its truthful punch that I keep hearing adults aren’t ready to hear? I guess famous people can take chances and clearly, some people can handle, and may even enjoy, the truth. The book arrived by bicycle in a covert brown paper bag with no ribbons and bows-just the way I like it. I’m aging, cynical and often cranky and I don’t really want (or need) gifts shouldn’t we be trying to cut down on stuff? But a good friend took a chance and brought me a used copy of Gary Larson’s 1998 book, There’s A Hair In My Dirt! A Worm’s Story. ![]()
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