
The afternoon sun warmed the rich garden soil as Grandpa Leo and his seven-year-old grandson, Sammy, knelt side-by-side, trowels in hand, pulling weeds and planting marigolds. It was peaceful, until Sammy spotted something wriggling near the edge of the raised bed.
“Grandpa, look!” he pointed. “There’s an earthworm trying to crawl back into its hole. I bet I can put it back in.”
Leo wiped his brow, a playful glint in his eye. “Tell you what, kiddo. I’ll bet you five dollars you can’t. It’s too wiggly and limp. You’ll never get it back in that tiny hole.”
Sammy’s eyes lit up. “You’re on!”
He dashed into the house and returned moments later clutching a can of strong-hold hairspray. With the focused determination of a young inventor, he gave the worm a quick, careful spritz. Almost instantly, the wiggly creature straightened out, stiff as a ruler. With steady little hands, Sammy gently guided it right back into its burrow. Perfect fit.
“Pay up, Grandpa!” he grinned.
Leo chuckled, thoroughly impressed. He reached into his pocket, handed over a crisp five-dollar bill, then his eyes locked onto the hairspray can. A sudden spark of inspiration crossed his face. He grabbed it, winked at Sammy, and hurried back into the house without another word.
About thirty minutes later, Leo reappeared on the porch, looking thoroughly satisfied and slightly out of breath. He walked over to
Sammy and handed him another five-dollar bill.
“Grandpa,” Sammy said, counting his money, “you already paid me.”
Leo adjusted his cap, a knowing, satisfied smile on his face.
“I know, kiddo. This one’s from your Grandma.”
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