As academic meetings begin to crowd my calendar, I am already starting to say goodbye to this summer, which has been awesome. And I am trying to get done all the things I meant to do when summer started, save for finding a place to practice yoga (who am I kidding) and learning to play my banjo (I didn’t but it makes a lovely conversation piece).
One of the things I’ve meant to do is take the grandbabies to Magic Wings, a butterfly conservatory where you walk around these steaming hot rooms and butterflies from all around the world fly all around you. If you’re lucky, they land on you, but as we discussed in the car, you have to stand very still. This one, a blue morpho, was my favorite–>
In literal 5-year old fashion, these two walked into the first room and froze, just like this, with their fingers helpfully extended for any butterflies willing to make a landing. A few did, but Granny was slow with her camera because, frankly, she was trying to get landed on, as well. We would pick a butterfly and then concentrate really hard to get that one to land on one of us. Sometimes, it worked and when it did? It was magic.
I guess what I love about the photo above is that it’s my grandbabies, of course, but the boy has his Michael Phelps game face on. He was going to freeze until a butterfly landed, by gum, but there was ice cream in the next room so we mostly just flitted around with the butterflies, let a few touch our noses, and then we repaired to Yankee Candle to a room where a machine spits out snow.
I love these kinds of days with the children. In a weird way, they let you be a child again, and rush from thing to thing with the kind of excitement and wonder you maybe forgot was inside you. An animated jug band! Ice cream with sprinkles! An antique truck you can’t touch but wish you could!
This summer may be ending, but I’m not dong making memories. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Go out and get yourself some grandbabies. You’ll be glad you did.