Imagine my excitement when I found a caterpillar on Peter's shoulder one afternoon. Finally, we could go on a hint for twigs, leaves and flowers to set up a cozy home and maybe even watch this fella become a butterfly.
Fat chance.
We had a jar full of all the things that make an adequate bug abode. We even picked wild strawberries from the back yard. For two days we watched "Catherine" inch all over the twigs, rest on the 'ceiling' of her jar, perform her acrobatic routine... All great fun.
Until it wasn't.
I woke up on Day 3 and discreetly checked on our newest pet only to find she had gone to the great caterpillar shrub in the sky.
Uh oh.
I steadied myself and prepared myself for the questions. Before I could really get started, Peter graciously offered the explanation that Catherine had escaped through the holes at the top. Well that made it easy. I'm such a chicken.
And then came bedtime. That's when Peter and I have our best conversations. Whether silly or serious, it's when we are both focused 100% on each other and he feels free to discuss anything and everything. I decided I had to come clean, so I explained that I had done some investigating and learned that caterpillars are picky eaters. If the leaves we offer aren't right, a caterpillar won't eat. He thought about this and asked if Catherine was up in heaven with Jesus and Papa. Then, before I could answer he cut me off and said, "Nah - caterpillars don't go to heaven! Catherine just crawled away through the lid!" And he rolled over and went to sleep.
That went well. So much for full disclosure.
And then he found "John" on an adirondack chair. We tried every leaf we could find in our yard. No dice.
Perhaps now he'll believe in heaven for caterpillars.
Either that or he'll move on to snakes or something equally offensive. At least we'd know what to feed them.
We'll try a bug hotel and a magnifying glass next and forgo the sleepovers. Baby steps.
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