Margaret has a sticker book that has butterflies and flowers in it in similar colors. This has left her with the conviction that the words are interchangeable, a theory that probably wasn’t really countered by our trip to the Butterfly House this morning, since there were both butterflies and flowers.
Anyway, she went charging around, and I feared for the butterflies. But there was one moment where she stopped rampaging like a mad thing, and I got a picture of her being impressed by the butterflies. Or the flowers. It was hard to tell. Except that she told me that there was a butterfly in the air, and that sounds like a butterfly, because flowers don’t fly all that often.
I think the part of the trip she liked best was the children’s corner where there were crayons and picture of bugs.
Anyway, after we had placed a number of fragile butterflies in mortal peril, we went across the park to the carousel, which she remembered from a trip with Helen before Christmas. Because that long a memory is perfectly normal for a kid her age.
And she rode.
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