I know, I know. If nothing ever changed, there would be no butterflies. But look, Party People, I don't think the process is very pretty.
This is a fuzzy wuzzy caterpillar that showed up in my house two weeks ago. It attached itself to an end table leg in my living room. I thought it would be gone the next day. But no. It was still there. And it seemed, well, sorta out of it. Like it had partied way too hard the night before with all its caterpillar buddies and was now busily sleeping it off.
The next day, though, not only was the caterpillar still there, it looked different. Less caterpillar-like and more, well, you'll see.
A couple more days go by and then one morning, voila! it somehow managed, while I wasn't looking, to cocoon itself. Right there in my living room.
This always happens come, spring, I swear. Suddenly, my entire household and its environs turns into a freakin' Nature Channel program.
This morning I poked at the cocoon. It's fuzzy but not squishy, and now I'm wondering if the thing isn't a cocoon so much as a tomb. I hope not. I would like a beautiful butterfly to emerge. But with my luck, it may be something disgustingly creepy-crawly. If that's the case, it better do so in the middle of the night and then creepy-crawl it's ugly ass outta here before I wake up.