“A mother’s work is never done,” says Roberta Robin.
“Come on, Reuben. We have to teach you to hunt for yourself. I can’t keep doing this for you.”
“This is what we’re after.”
“Now watch carefully and I’ll show you how to hunt for these yummy earthworms.”
“First, you have to listen. That means you don’t shuffle your feet and you don’t squawk and run around. That sends them underground.”
“But they ARE underground, aren’t they?” Reuben asks.
“I meant ‘figuratively speaking,'” Roberta says with a sigh. “You’re overthinking this. It’s just a worm hunt. So you lean over like this, close to the ground, and listen. And keep your eyes open too because you might see the grass wiggle as they try to escape.”
“Then when you hear one making a run for it–”
“But they don’t have any legs. How can they make a run for it?” Reuben asks.
“FIGURATIVELY speaking!” Roberta sighs. “Why me? Why did I have to give birth to a little professor?”
“As I was saying, when they make a ru– er… a bid for freedom, you snag ’em with your beak. You might have to dig and peck a little but if you’re quick you’ll get the worm.”
“So it’s the quick bird that gets the worm,” Reuben says. “Not necessarily the early bird.”
“Here you go, Professor Reuben,” says Roberta. “Now you try it. The next one I get will be for me, so you’d better try hard to get your own. That’s it. Get that ear to the ground.”
While I grab a bite for myself at last!