We get out to the Butterfly Gardens and kiddo is all excited, happy, eager to catch a butterfly on her finger. Then angry when she couldn't get one to land on her. Then ballistic after one landed on her. Tears, histrionics, screaming, you name it*. Hubby had to haul her out to the car and wait with her while I tried to at least finish one circuit of the gardens.
When I made it back to the van (I could hear her screaming across the parking lot), hubby offered me some of his iced tea and kiddo promptly stood up and slapped it out of my hand, spilling a bunch of it on the floor of the van. I told her when we got home, she was going to have to spend the remainder of the day in her room.
Hubby said at one point, she did ask when Father's Day was. No doubt she is planning to sabotage that, too. Bah.
(More photos on Flickr, tagged "butterflygardens")
*Apparently, kiddo was afraid that a butterfly would lay an egg on her finger and she didn't want a butterfly as a pet but then she'd have to feed it and take care of it and she didn't want to... no amount of explanation could change her mind or convince her otherwise.
1 comment:
Cue Nana Mouskouri
Love is like a butterfly,
As soft and gentle as a sigh,
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings.
Love makes your heart feel strange inside,
It flutters like soft wings in flight,
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing.
That temper of hers ...it's kind of a little worrying.
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