My daughter gave me a very detailed list of instructions in regards to the care of her caterpillar while she was gone. Most thankfully though, he decided to build his chrysalis before she left. So in the invent that he completed his metamorphosis before she returned, my responsibilities were reduced, to snapping some photos, and a safe release. My wife did not fare so well with her charges. She was responsible for Lily's plants, and therefore the bulk of her tears when she got home to find a dead succulent. Drew had already knocked over Lily's carnivorous plant collection weeks before, and my eldest does not use crocodile tears, so her mom was cut deep. Thankfully, I was responsible for a life that seemed frozen in time. I know that much went on inside the little Chrysalis, since the creature that went in bared little resemblance to the one that came out. Babysitting is so much easier when the child decides to sleep the whole time. I picked the girls up Saturday, and by the time I got home from work on Sunday, Lily was showing me pictures of her butterfly. Piece of cake.
Forty years old and still in awe of the outdoors.