The Inchworm

The year was 1971.

Our grandma was determined to keep all her grand-
children even.

At Christmas, she convinced her husband to buy them all the trendiest new toy on the market.

Hence, three Inchworms wiggled their way into our home. During our preschool years, my sisters and I bounced along our basement floor by winter and down our gravel driveway by summer. The fun stretched beyond us three to our baby sister born a year after grandma's bestowment.

When our four girls' fun ended and the Inchworms began collecting dust, they moved on to other homes... All but forgotten, via home movies and an odd photograph.

On a whim – after Christmas this past year – I perused the toy aisles for clearance specials. I stopped – dead in my tracks – spotting a box with a toy inspired by the Inchworm. Memories rushed back.

My boys are long-past the preschool age. But my one-and-only goddaughter is not. I put the box in my cart laughing all the way to the register. I thought: What a fun birthday gift for a three-year-old and a hilarious memory for her mother – my sister.


Today we celebrated my godchild's birthday.

She unwrapped the fun.

Her mom – like ours back in '71 – laughed... Maybe over the silliness?

Her dad – like ours that long-ago Christmas – grumbled... Maybe over the assembly?

Ride on O' Inchworm!