A nice lady had a fun little show and tell planned for a group of adorable, innocent children involving a butterfly and the wonders of nature.
These kindergarteners just got their first taste of that.
That dog eating the butterfly feels like the type of moment that creates all sorts of uncomfortable questions parents are forced to answer, long before they’re ready or want to.
“What happened to the butterfly mommy?”
“Will I die?”
“What’s going to happen when I die?”
“WILL I BECOME POOP WHEN I DIE LIKE THE BUTTERFLY!?!”
The seeds of existential dread have been planted deep in those kids’ psyches.
At least it was a quick, clean death. It wasn’t like the teacher whipped out a guinea pig and the dog shredded it to pieces. Hell you could probably explain the whole thing away pretty easily.
“The dog was playing sweetie, the butterfly is fine.”
The best course of action of all might be to simply make the kids forget about it as quickly as possible.
“Mommy, what happened to the butterfl–”
“Who wants ice cream!!!!!”
Of course, that strategy might subconsciously teach the kids to associate death with receiving rewards, but the statistical probability of someone inadvertently raising a contract killer feels low. I’d be okay with facing those odds.
Regardless, the real lesson here is that parents are probably thankful for the random, infrequent days in which they don’t have to answer some awkward or troubling question their kids ask them. Getting through an entire day without being asked about sex, death, economic inequality, skin color, or mental illness has got to feel like a huge win.