The Simplicities of Childhood- Harold the Caterpillar
Yesterday, AJ came into the living room and yelled joyfully, “Mama! I found a caterpillar!” I remember the joy of childhood in which a “willyworm” could be hours of entertainment. I would watch them cross roads, pass over sticks and climb trees and stare in fascination. I grew up on a farm and often the bugs and critters I would find would be the best sort of day-passing activities for a kid who didn’t have cable television. I didn’t grow up on Disney or Zoom. We had rabbit ears and fuzzy stations.
Most kids that grow up on farms get to work. I was lucky, or spoiled depending on your view, in that I didn’t. I had pet chickens, that eventually became dinner and caused me to avoid eating chicken for 18 years. I had a pet goat and a horse. Several dogs called me owner but none of them stayed around long. I played in a chicken coop and a barn and a pasture. I ate fresh berries off the vine and peas straight out of the pod. Hot watermelon opened by cracking it on the steps of the back porch still tastes best to me. Blackberries and mulberries bursting off their vines, full of luscious ripeness, call to me.
All because of the thought of a caterpillar. AJ’s enthusiasm was contagious. I watched the caterpillar creep up his arm and search for escape. “Harold” was aptly named because he or she looked like a Harold. AJ began making plans for a long and happy life with Harold in which Harold could live in his room and eat carrots and lettuce (what AJ assumed Harold would enjoy eating) and Harold could live in a tank just like fish. When I explained how this would affect Harold, AJ’s face fell. He took a minute to process him and slowly marched outside.
When he came back in he melodramatically explained to me, “I let Harold go because it would make him happy. He deserved it.”
Don’t we all?
Jillian is a 30-year old Southern mom blogger who is also a busy wife and mom. She also enjoys speaking about herself in the third person.
