Mama, I found this little bug in the bathroom.
So I picked it up, and I talked to it.
And I held it.
Then I put it in my cup on the sink, and I told it,
I would be back.
And I would talk to it some more.
It was a nice little bug.
It was the kind of bug with wings,
that flies sometimes.
When I picked it up I blew on it,
so it would feel like it was outside.
I love that bug.
It was a nice bug.
(Summer Lily, almost four)
(edited to add: yes, she really did say all of that. all of it, I started writing it out as she was telling me. Then she repeated it another four times as she spun around in circles in the living room)