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how can you tell a toddler that her fear is irrational? |
| when she was young, she screamed at the caterpillars that dotted our front porch and the sidewalk where we played with the neighbor children. we carried her to her car seat, her face buried in our shoulders so she didn’t see the hairy beasts that tormented her nightmares or feel them squish when they were too thick to avoid. the squish of caterpillars is indistinguishable from that of slugs, and differs from snails only in the lack of crunch. we sat her down, and tried to explain that caterpillars are a necessary evil— without them, she would never chase another butterfly. she was always eager to follow their meander through mother’s garden, laughing as she came almost close enough to touch—wide eyed and still when one chose to light on her finger. she’d nod, and we’d share triumph in a in a glance, sure her terror was over and she would be calm. then we took her back outside, and she screamed. line count: 31 Prompt for: Jan 5, 2016 ▶︎ |