On Wars and Butterfly kisses

Last night.

“Mommy, has Putin stopped his attack on Ukraine yet?”

“Sad to say, Baby, not yet. Not yet.”

You kept on a thoughtful face.

After lunch.

(Today was school holiday and I decided to take a day off). We were walking back home after lunch at the village cafe, you on your roller skater. Then you spotted a butterfly in the middle of the walkway that’s struggling to fly. The poor butterfly though would most likely struggle to fly for the rest of its life. Its wings have an uneven size, the other much smaller than the other. The windy day (today’s quite pleasant actually) added to its struggles. You were trying to pick it up, me shrieking (I NEVER liked insects). You explained that you had to remove it off the path of someone else, lest someone who doesn’t like insects might kill it, or someone in a hurry might accidentally trod on it and kill it. You gently brought it to a leafy shade and it was soon obvious to see the butterfly looked less distressed and was not trying to flap its wings anymore. You didn’t stop there though. You picked off a couple of wallflowers and laid it in front of the butterfly, giving it food.

Back at home, you waited while I worked on my laptop and tried to answer a colleague’s query from three projects back who needed help. You also told me how you envision my position will be six years from now. My, my. I have to work veeeery hard to meet your expectations!

You then requested me to sing “Country Road”. I wrapped up work, and dutifully sang in front of you. After my rendition, you said thank you, saying it was the first time you felt so relaxed listening to a song. My number 1 fan. 🥰