“Pretty cool, huh?” My oldest son asked. He was holding a dead leaf out for me to see. On its tip, crawled the world’s tiniest yellow caterpillar.

“Yeah.”

I’ll admit it. I love the fact that my boys are fascinated as much by nature as I am. People will probably mock them for it, just like they do with me, but I still love it.

We watched it move along the leaf, humping up and stretching out like a tiny inch worm, then he shrugged, half-embarrassed. “Better get back to mowing.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Put it back.”

“Okay,” I said. “Just don’t eat it.”

He stopped. “Why would you say that?”

“It was a joke.”

“Well. . .” He looked at me, then at the caterpillar, then back at me. “Now, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s poisonous,” I said, suddenly nervous.

He flashed me an evil grin and walked away.

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