Butterflies Bug Me
The first time my oldest son, David, was terrorized by a butterfly, he was 3. He was sitting in a shopping cart in a flower nursery when one landed right on his nose and wouldn’t move. He cried…a lot. It was a big bug, after all. The second time he was 5, when my mother innocently put on a butterfly puppet in the mall and flapped it around him. He screamed and from his perspective, I suppose it did look creepy--5 wiggling black gloved fingers and Grandma making a buzzing sound. The third time, age 8, he was on a school trip to a butterfly house when another winged-intruder came very close to his face. A couple of nanoseconds of flailing arms and then STOMP! He killed it, causing a scene of unimaginable proportions including, screaming, running and hysterical zoo keepers scraping up the remains of the Ruby-throated Pussycat Swallowtail up with a brochure. I’m sure there’s an age-enhanced picture of David at the zoo—even now--with a “Keep Him Away from Butterflyarium”” warning. W...