 By Julie Gordon 'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse. I lay still beside him until I heard a snore, then I slipped from the bed and out through the door. I crept up the hallway and down the front stair; I tiptoed to the living room to see what was there. And lo and behold, under the tree, was a shiny black box labelled to ME! I pulled and I pried, and as I lifted the lid, I heard a cough from behind, my husband up from bed. I stood up and stammered "I-I just couldn't sleep"; "Mm-hm", answered Don, "well that box'll keep". And so I resigned to go back to bed, but visions of gifts still danced through my head. A new dress, a necklace, a crate full of socks; what could possibly be contained in that box? A tea set, some perfume, a puppy to keep; I ran through the options as I drifted to sleep. In the morning I woke from that sleep with a scream; creepies and crawlies; I'd had a bad dream. And then I remembered just what day it was: December 25th, Christmas, of course! I ran to the living room to see what I'd get, but I wasn't prepared for the sight that I met. There were worms in the carpet, worms on the chairs, worms in the hallway, worms on the stairs. Worms hung from the lampshades and climbed up the walls; they infested the kitchen; they crawled through the halls. I looked at my husband; on his face was pure shock; bewildered he wondered "how'd they escape from that box?" And then I remembered that I'd lifted the lid; could worms have been what my Christmas box hid? "Yes", said my hubby, "it's a vermicomposter"; under my breath I muttered "I'd as soon have a toaster". But alas I was stuck with this so-called 'worm bin', So I set about getting those worms back in. And now it's one year later, Christmas eve once again; my house plants are thriving, I've worm bins times ten. Yes, it's true, that black gold sure works like a charm; I can't wait 'til my husband opens his brand new ant farm! |
