A few years ago, my daughter Hadley developed a butterfly obsession that began when my parents bought her a butterfly net and book.
She was not quick enough to capture even one.
That’s why I wasn’t too surprised when she announced she wanted a butterfly kit that Christmas. It seemed like a brilliant strategy: if you can’t catch ‘em, why not grow your own?
My younger brother used to capture butterflies and watch them die, sending my sensitive heart into a tailspin at the thought of God’s beautiful creatures succumbing to my brother’s demonic Collection of Doom.