Killer

There was a flying something in the house tonight as Ryanne and I sat eating dessert. She was watching it closely. It flew over and landed on her chest so I reached over, tapped her and it fell to the floor.

She looked at me in horror. Her face crumpled. "I don't want it deaded."

Since when can I not kill insects in the house? Gah!

She bent down and gently picked it up off the floor.
R: "Make it not deaded."
M: "I can't do that, sweetie. We can put it outside and let its spirit fly, though."
R: "Yeah"

We open the door and she drops it outside saying something about fly little buggie, fly away.

R: "Its friends will help it get better."
M: "We can only hope."
R: "Then it can come back inside."
M: "I'm sure we'll see one again."

She still wasn't totally ok when she went upstairs. I didn't expect something like this to set her off this early. I guess all of the death she's experienced in her short life has really had more of an effect on her than I ever realized. I will certainly be more careful about trying to catch and release. Now, if I could just get her to stop squishing the ones outside. Hypocrite.