Butterfly

The boys found a dead butterfly in the shed this morning. Nicholas, who is very tenderhearted, wanted to help the butterfly get to butterfly heaven (his idea). They were outside and I was inside, when I saw Andrew coming in to the house with tears in his eyes and a big sad lip. He told me that Nicholas was holding a butterfly funeral and was singing a song for the butterfly. It was really sweet and melancholy. Since I can't sing it for you, here are the words, sung to a slow version of "Happy Birthday".

Happy Butterfly, go to sleep.
Happy Butterfly, sweet dreams.


::::snif, snif::::