Today after preschool, there was a big rainstorm, and Russell's friend found a large, healthy worm. They examined it for quite a while before we convinced them to put it down in an appropriate place.
However, as Russell was about to get in the car, I saw he had his hands clamped together. "Don't look! I don't have anything in there!" After revealing the worm, I explained it needed a lot of dirt to live in and that I was worried it would dry out and die in our car. (Besides, I didn't want his friend to see us making off with it!) Russell tried throwing a mini-fit and then tried to persuade me to let him keep it in a jar, transplant it to our yard, etc., but I held firm.
On the way home, having passed through denial, anger, and bargaining, Russell discussed his great depression from not having a worm. He explained that he wanted to have two dried-up worms, one to keep on the shelf in his room, and one to slice up and look at with a telescope ("You mean microscope?" "Yeah"). He pleaded for dead worms in the exact same way another child would plead for a Barbie. He told me that he wanted to study insects when he grows up (yes, I know a worm is not an insect, but you get the idea). I guess the biology genes skipped a generation.
Then we got home and found the package of 11 Jean George books from Grandpa George, about various animals, and he got me to read them to him for about three hours total today (no doubt more to follow tomorrow). I know a lot more about mountain lions, peccaries, salamanders, moles, and their environments than I did this morning!