Somewhere in the Midwest, there lived a worm called Wringles. He was a happy and a curious worm. He wiggled and wiggled from the day he was born. His family giggled whenever Wringles wiggled. Sometimes he accidentally wiggled into trouble, but he usually found a way to wiggle out of it. During the family outings he often lagged far behind and got lost. So his mother knitted a bright-red cap so he could be easily found. Wringles liked his cap so much he never took it off. He even wore it to bed. But he had to remove it during dinner.
About the Author
George Evans, a retired educator, grew up in Gary, Indiana, and served four years in the air force during the Korean War. He has three sons, one daughter, six grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren.