Here's what to do if there's a moth in your house and you want to catch him. And you're three years old, of course:
Attempt 1: use one of Mommy's rubbermaid containers to try and scoop the moth into the bowl
Attempt 2: call in a high-pitched voice "come here Mr. Moth! Come here!" And say it louder and higher over and over because moths especially like that.
Attempt 3: blow a whistle at the poor, stunned creature and watch with glee as he frantically tries to get away from you.
Attempt 4: hit traumatized moth with aforementioned whistle
At this point in the process, I left the room. I didn't want to watch an innocent creature die.
I returned a few minutes later, Ava in tow to see how things were going. Wanna hear which method worked?
Number 4. Miraculously the moth was still alive and I find him perched on Lucas's knuckles.
I convinced Lucas to take him into the garage, but the busom buddies quickly returned because apparently Moe the Moth would like to watch t.v. I'm not as fond of Moe as Lucas is, so I ask him to take his new friend back into the garage "so he can be reunited with his Mommy". She was probably getting worried about him.
I'm sad to say, Moe is no longer with us. He has crossed over to the other side. But not before he had a bath and towel rub, played in a rock band, and watched a few minutes of Everyday Italian.
We'll miss you Moe.
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