Mr. Inchworm...

So Elliott is terribly frightened of bugs. It may stem from the occasional bee which wanders into our 25th floor apartment and wreaks havoc in the household. It may also stem from the giant B52 bomber roach which somehow made it up to our apartment from an outside unscreened window, and in all the screaming and panic, flew onto my back, which even made me, big brave dad, momentarily caught up in the hysteria. While in the park across the street, Mr. Inchworm landed on my arm and after much apprehensive observation and fatherly assurances, I carefully transferred him to Elliott's arm. He actually enjoyed the comical tickling transport method of Mr. Inchworm and wanted to keep him as a pet. I told him we had to let him go and Elliott said that he was worried a bird would eat our new friend. I said he had to continue on his journey, even with an uncertain fate, because I'm sure he would rather live five days free then thirty days in a jar...