It all started when we would wrap her up in a towel after her bath. This became her “cocoon”, which we then transport onto her bed. As she wriggles free, Daddy Butterfly (that’s me!) and Momma Butterfly try to guess what is about to emerge into the world; “It looks like a baby zebra…no, wait, a baby monkey…no, hmmm, could it be…” (We’ve gone through many, MANY animals…) She stands on her bed, naked and triumphant, her arms flapping weakly by her side, and we proclaim, “It’s a baby butterfly!!!!”
This has been our night night ritual for awhile now. It’s fun, cute, a nice transition from bath to books, and we all understand our roles perfectly. Like some long running Broadway musical, our performance is now honed to perfection. Like Cats.
There’s just one small problem…My wife is now pregnant. I was thinking about this the other day as Maddie began flying around the house as The Baby Butterfly . I said, “You know Maddie, you’re really not Baby Butterfly anymore. Baby Butterfly is in mommy’s tummy. Now you’re Little Girl Butterfly.”
To which she replied, “No Daddy, I’m still Baby Butterfly. That’s Baby Caterpillar!”
My wife and I looked at each other. She was right. Scientifically correct. Couldn’t argue with her on that one. All we could do was laugh.