A few weeks ago, Steph took Eli to Portland for a wedding, and Eva and I had a daddy/daughter weekend. That Sunday we went to the park, and nearly ran over a caterpillar on the way there. We came back home, store the stroller and life went on.
So a week later, I’m walking up the stairs from the basement when something odd catches my eye.
A caterpillar was working it’s way up the stairs. Apparently the caterpillar caught a ride in the stroller and when I stored the stroller downstairs thought to themselves “Crap, now what?” So began the long journey up the stairs to freedom (hopefully).
I gathered a cup and a postcard and headed back to the stairs. Unsure if it was alive, I slid the postcard under and the cup over. The caterpillar moved with excitement (or fear).
I carried it out and dropped it in the grass by the fence. I kept Quinton away, and the caterpillar left to undoubtedly find some thing to eat.