Tell me, butterflies: of all the wildflowers in all the meadows in all the world, why did you have to land on the one surrounded by poison ivy?
Milkweed, daisies, butterfly weed all abound right up next to the path, but you couldn't stop there, could you? You had to flutter off to feed in the middle of the poison ivy. And I had to follow.
What made me think it was a good idea to go bounding up the hill after butterflies without first putting on long pants and high socks?
I couldn't get close to you this time, butterflies, but don't worry, I'll be back.
This could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
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