It probably comes to no surprise to those that know me that I have a bit of OCD. Nothing that interferes with life (much), and therefore requires meds, but woo boy! if I get fixated on something, I stay fixated on that something.

Remember the worms? Uh huh. I'm totally OCDing over those bad mother truckers. It's reaching such epic proportions that I expect to see some little guys carrying a white jacket any minute now. They're coming to take me away, hee hee, haw haw. They better bring a pair of tweezers with them, though, because I could use some help with the mother. trucking. worms.

After reading the first post about my good buds The Worms (they deserve capital letters, don't you think?), Mr. Husband promptly said, "You, woman with Spanish Translation degree, leave worms to big manly Zoology degree having man." And a day or two went by and big manly Zoology man didn't seem to be doing a whole lot about The Worms. So I inquired and learned that he planned to voyage to Petco and buy a worm trap.

Screeeeeeeech! (That's the sound of me slamming the breaks on that idea.)

There was NO WAY I was giving Petco money for a trap for some stupid Worms. We already give various pet stores more money for dog and cat food than we do the grocery store for Real People Food. No way, nuh uh, not happening. I consulted Mr. Google and asked him, "Oh wise, Mr. Google, what should we do?" He first scoffed at the worm trap idea saying, "Truly, woman is wise to stop man from wasting money on worthless traps." Then he told me to get out a pair of tweezers and start catching me some Worms.

So, I ventured to the store to buy rubber gloves (you didn't think I was going to stick my bare hands in that tank, did you?) and some tweezers. While I was at it, I bought myself a lovely new pair of tweezers to replace the ones a certain short, perky Toddler seemed to have stolen. Of course, when I returned home and whipped out those bad boys to clean up the caterpillar on my forehead, the Toddler was all, "OOOOH! That's what you've been asking me to find. Here they are!" and promptly dug my old tweezers out of her toy box.

Anyway, after the caterpillar was tamed and separated into two equal parts, I donned my gloves, snagged my new craptastic tweezers (which I fully intend to melt down and sell as scrap metal at this end of this little project, btw), and set out to hunt me down some worms. On my first trip in, I found myself five of the little buggers hiding out under a piece of coral. They should be floating past Damama's house right about now. The next night, I found three more in the exact same place. It was like shooting monkeys in a barrel, they just kept going back to the easy hunting ground.

I don't know if The Worms got smarter or if I got dumber, but I stopped finding any on the coral by the fourth night. I can't say that I was totally surprised, since it seemed like a stupid place to hang out anyway. There's ten pounds of live rock in that tank, meaning there are ten pounds of rocks with lots of holes and caves and cracks and crevices for nasty little worm-types to hang out in. Why sleep in the nasty, crowded hostel when there's a Four Seasons just up the road, right? I'm pretty sure The Worms came into this world in those rocks, so it is my job to rip them from their warm, cozy rooms at the Four Seasons and flush them down the toilet to Worm hell.

The Worms don't like light, so on day five, I waited until the sun had set, moved the tank light off to the side, and set out to do some nighttime hunting. Right away I spotted a ugly little head poking it's way out of a decent-sized cave. So I lunged my gloved hand in and tried to smash it's brains in pull it gently from it's hiding place. Of course it knew I was coming (felt it? heard it? I don't know), and dived back into it's hole. I waited patiently, tweezers at the ready, for it to poke it's way back out again.

Snap. And miss.

Snap. And miss.

Snap. And miss.

By this point, I was starting to get a little cranky. So I brought out the big guns--I hooked some fish food onto the end of the tweezers. I know for a fact The Worms are having trouble finding things to eat. That's the only reason I know they are in there. If they were totally happy in the tank, I wouldn't ever see one. I hung the food out in front of the cave and waited. And waited. And waited. Then a jerkface bug came lunging out and stole the freakin' food from me. Seriously--I didn't even see it coming because I was too busy waiting for a stupid Worm. It was like when you play dodgeball and you're gunning for the big kid. There's a ball just sitting halfway between you and him, and you're in a staredown with him, shuffling back and forth, just trying to get a mental edge before you swoop in, grab the ball, and kick his butt. But before you can, the stupid little nerd kid comes flying out of nowhere, grabs the ball, and kicks YOUR butt. It was JUST LIKE THAT. Stupid bug.

So, my little game of chicken went on and on. I'm sure fifty other worms went for a stroll, had a nice candlelight dinner, and tucked their kids in for the night while I was fixated on that one stupid Worm. Fourty-five minutes passed before I finally gave up for the night.

I haven't been back since. But I have spent a whole lot of waking moments trying to think of a new plan of attack. I AM going to get me some Worms. I guarantee it.