So cute!

I remember that when K turned about 5 his emotional empathy really went into high gear. He's still a very sensitive child, but it's interesting to see L is entering this phase of development as well.

Today's household tragedy came in the form of a requirement to release the caterpillar that K had captured over the weekend. The boys have a little plastic bug-holder and they'd kept it in there, with a few leaves, for several days. This AM, Pygment decreed that they finally had to let it go, which they tearfully did out into the front lawn.

There was then much fussing over whether it would be OK and why couldn't they keep moving it and poking at it to make sure it was eating. Eventually Pygment decreed that they'd have to come in, finish cleaning up from breakfast, and get ready for the day. At which point L approaches me, in tears:

L: Daddy I need some paper and a pen.
Me: What for, sweetie?
L: We're going to make a nametag for our caterpillar and put the tag on it so that when we see a butterfly we'll know it's ours.

(Attempting to explain that caterpillars really couldn't wear name tags because they need to be able to crawl around and not get tangled up didn't help. And I certainly didn't win any points by explaining that the caterpillar would have to go into a cocoon to become a butterfly and even if it did have a name tag that wouldn't go with it. Daddy is apparently heartless and lacks understanding.)

So cute!

I remember that when K turned about 5 his emotional empathy really went into high gear. He's still a very sensitive child, but it's interesting to see L is entering this phase of development as well.

Today's household tragedy came in the form of a requirement to release the caterpillar that K had captured over the weekend. The boys have a little plastic bug-holder and they'd kept it in there, with a few leaves, for several days. This AM, Pygment decreed that they finally had to let it go, which they tearfully did out into the front lawn.

There was then much fussing over whether it would be OK and why couldn't they keep moving it and poking at it to make sure it was eating. Eventually Pygment decreed that they'd have to come in, finish cleaning up from breakfast, and get ready for the day. At which point L approaches me, in tears:

L: Daddy I need some paper and a pen.
Me: What for, sweetie?
L: We're going to make a nametag for our caterpillar and put the tag on it so that when we see a butterfly we'll know it's ours.

(Attempting to explain that caterpillars really couldn't wear name tags because they need to be able to crawl around and not get tangled up didn't help. And I certainly didn't win any points by explaining that the caterpillar would have to go into a cocoon to become a butterfly and even if it did have a name tag that wouldn't go with it. Daddy is apparently heartless and lacks understanding.)