Skyler is in love with creeping things.
Most notably, he is enchanted with ants. This is unfortunate, given that we are facing a sudden plague of them in our playroom. Several times a day he dashes to me, eyes wide with delight. "Mommy, wook! I have an ant!" The poor ant has often already gone to his eternal rest by this time, and is lying in the palm of his chubby hand. I ooh and aah over the poor creature appropriately. "Here, Mommy," he offers generously, "You hold it!" I hold out my hand and he empties the grim little carcass into it, proud of his hunting ability. Then I return it to him, where he gazes at it in quiet awe. "I wan' keep," he announces, setting off to stash it somewhere.
Of course, he can't make it very far without dropping it. "I d'op it, Mommy!" he will shriek inevitably, at which point I either have to get down on my hands and knees to search for the little crumpled body, or assure him that he can find another one. (Sorry, other ant.)
The other day he was out playing on the porch and dashed inside in sheer glee. "Mommy, wook! I foun' a calapillar!" Sure enough, the poor thing was pinched between his fingers. "Augh--wonderful!" I managed. "Don't squish it! Here, give it to me." I showed him how to hold it gently and let it crawl across his hand (thankfully this critter was still alive). Then we allowed it to carefully scoot onto his hand (have I mentioned how dumb caterpillars are?). We carried it outside and he reverently allowed it to go free.
The wonder and joy in his eyes almost paid for the creepy feeling of having a potentially squishy animal above my living room carpet.