|A two-year-old, transformed!|
It was the day after Isaac’s birthday, and he was acting…you know…TWO. He picked up rocks out of the birdbath, threw mulch into a fountain, and generally yelled, “NO!” a lot. A LOT. But I figured anyone attending Monarch Madness at the Panhandle Butterfly House in Navarre, Florida, on a Friday morning probably had kids at one time, or at least knew some kids, and we were outside, so I was trying to be all zen about the tantrums. This was our Mama-Baby Birthday Daytrip, after all.
WIGGLE! STRUGGLE! SHOUT! SCREAM!!
Whatever, we’re outside. It’s not echoing. I approached the taggers and spoke calmly over Isaac’s stiff, wriggling body, “I was wondering if we could tag a butterfly!”
|Panhandle Butterfly House|
When I was a reporter in Corpus Christi I pulled over one day on my way to work. Swarms of something were everywhere. What the heck was it?! BUTTERFLIES!!! I’d never seen anything like it. Hoards and clouds of them, all flocking together, migrating to Mexico. There were as thick as lovebugs near a generator. WOW! At work I exclaimed in surprise and delight, and everyone else was like, “Uh, yeah, it happens every year!”