Might as well jump

Just when you think things are bad enough, they get worse.

I’m talking about jumping worms.

I’m not even kidding.

I saw a news story about a new species of worm in Pennsylvania, which jumps.

In a related story, I’m moving.

If you don’t live in Pennsylvania, you’re not immune to jumping worms.

We’re still, sort-of, the United States.

And jumping worms have been found in Wisconsin and other swing states.

Reportedly, jumping worms look like European earthworms, but I have no idea what that means.

When I go to Italy, I’m not looking at the worms.

I’m looking at the men.

Sorry, I mean the art.

OK, the carbs.

The news story said the worms also look like nightcrawlers.

I don’t know what a nightcrawler looks like.

Except for the one I was married to.

But I digress.

Evidently, jumping earthworms can grow 8 inches long.

I bet they’re proud.

Also they jump a foot high.

Meanwhile, how?

They don’t even have legs.

I do, and I can’t jump a foot.

The news story said they “fling themselves” into the air.

That, I can do.

I would fling myself at chocolate cake.

Also Bradley Cooper.

And if Bradley Cooper jumped out of a chocolate cake, God knows what would happen.

I would fling like crazy.

Jumping worms eat mulch, leaves, and roots. They have a voracious appetite.

OK I feel you, nightcrawlers.

Anyway can you imagine walking through the grass and giant worms start flinging themselves at you?

It’s like a backyard of phallic symbols.

I thought things were getting misogynistic lately.

Do the penises have to start jumping, too?

Oh, and there’s more good news.

Jumping worms leave larger castings than regular worms.

Guess what castings means.

Worm poop.

So you have to clean their litter box, too.

I don’t know what to do about this latest horror.

Someone asked a biology professor at Muhlenberg College what could be done about jumping worms, and he reportedly said: “The horse is already out of the barn.”

Frankly, professor, so am I.

He also said, “They’re just going about their wormy lives.”

Again, so am I.

Reportedly, if you see a jumping worm, you’re not supposed to kill it.

I don’t need to be told.

If I see one, my first thought won’t be mortal combat.

Meanwhile how would you kill a jumping worm?

Strangle it by its neck(s)?

Tie it in a bow?

Play jump rope to death?

The news story advises we shouldn’t spread the species by buying composting worms.

Damn.

I was just heading out the door.

I guess I have to cross composting worms off my shopping list.

There’s nothing a girl needs more than composting worms.

Also on the same list is:

New underwire.

Low-rise jeans.

Thong.

Do you remember thongs?

They look like jumping worms.

Now try wearing one.

I’d rather wear a jumping worm than a thong.

In truth, Mother Nature prepped me for jumping worms.

I’ve had snakes in my front yard ever since I caught them having sex in a huge ball.

Now I have so many snakes I have to be careful not to step on them.

The snakes are big and long, and jumping worms got nothing on them.

But if my snakes start jumping, I’m out of here.

I like my snakes horizontal, not vertical.

That’s not a dirty joke.

Well, it kind of is.

In the good news department, the biology professor said that, “Although the jumping worms are likely going to lead to some important changes in the environment, it doesn’t mean that our forests and gardens are going to become barren hellscapes.”

I knew that.

We don’t need worms to create a barren hellscape.

We can do that all by ourselves.

Look for Lisa’s new best-selling domestic thriller, “What Happened to the Bennetts,” on sale now. Also, look for Lisa’s historical novel, “Eternal,” in paperback. Francesca’s debut novel, “Ghosts of Harvard,” is also in paperback.