We arrived at child care. Very soon Lillian had found a dead moth.
“Daddy! Look what I found!”
“Yes, its a dead moth.”
“Can we take it home?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“You put it in your pocket.”
I hadn’t bargained on that. I was in my work clothes. I ignored that brilliant idea, hoping she’d forget.
I’d almost escaped when a voice rang out across the room.
“Daddy! You forgot to put the moth in your pocket!”
So, as I type this, I have a dead moth in my shirt pocket.
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