Samantha had come home from a visit with her grandparents that lived in the country. She loved playing outside and digging in the dirt with her grandma. When she arrived home, she toted a mason jar with a metal lid with holes poked in it. Inside the jar was a twig and a fuzzy silkworm. Her grandmother saw the look on my face (I'm not a fan of worms in any shape or form) and quickly said she tried to talk her out of bringing it home, but Samantha insisted it was her new pet. I still didn't have a chance to really say anything, yet. I was just thinking there was no way we were keeping a pet worm. I looked at Samantha and was getting ready to speak up and she said, "Mom! It's my pet!" I told her worms were not pets, they are bugs and belong outdoors. Then her eyes began to fill with tears and it was very evident that this was a pretty big deal to her. I thought, "How long will a silkworm last in a jar anyway?" So, I told her the silkworm stays in the jar...period. She got the biggest smile and hugged me tight and thanked me. Her grandma smiled, too, as if she knew I wouldn't win that battle anymore than she was able to.
That night she insisted that we place her pet in the jar on her nightstand so she could keep an eye on it. I agreed but reminded her it was to stay in the jar. The next morning as I was working in my home office, Samantha came in and asked me if she could play with her pet. I told her absolutely not unless she took it in the backyard. She then left the room. About an hour later, I heard her come running down the hallway wailing and crying the biggest crocodile tears you can imagine. I started giving her the visual lookover thinking she surely must be hurt. Then she cried out, "I killed my pet, momma! I was just playing with it and poked it with a stick and accidentally smashed it. Now....he's....dead..." And she began wailing, again. I laugh now thinking about it, but I couldn't laugh then because she was just so upset. I picked her up and held her. I didn't even ask her why she took it out of the jar when she knew she wasn't supposed to. I just held her and let her cry. She kept saying how sorry she was, it was all her fault and it was her most favorite pet ever. Once she calmed down, I told her how sorry I was and that maybe we should go to Pet Smart and find her something that really was supposed to be someone's pet. As you can imagine, the tears fled nearly immediately. We drove to Pet Smart and got her a cute little finch. I suppose that wasn't the "best" lesson to teach her. But, it just seemed like the right thing to do and it made a very sad little girl smile.