|The exact moment of firefly realization. (If you ask Cressy|
the fireflies were 'asking' to be captured and imprisoned. Maybe
it was the way they were dressed, the hussies.)
I was like, "Naw, you didn't get one this quick." (Unthinkable. She can't catch a caterpillar, how was she going to catch a firefly with wings and a disposition for escape.)
|Actual firefly security detail.|
They're kind of like the Secret Service,
except without Obama.
We both looked at it as it lay on the bottom of the container and I said, "Maybe we should let it go." So the poor little smooshed thing could die in peace. Poor little luminescent bastard.
|Oh, it's time to steal lines from the classics.|
Cressy looked at the sad, pitiful dying insect and I suspected that she knew that she had smooshed its little, green, glow-in-the-dark guts out. She said, "Okay, Mommy," in a subdued sort of voice. So we somberly let it out in the grass where it sat on a piece of grass and glowed for awhile.
Then Cressy went back into the yard to catch more. She even called to the little fireflies like they were dogs. "Here, firefly. Here, firefly. Come here, firefly." She was getting annoyed that they wouldn't listen to her. But I suspected that the word had gotten around.
|You know what they say about gossip.|
Then we went inside because all of the fireflies had mysteriously vanished.
The moral of the story is: Don't make assumptions AND Don't squish fireflies.