Butterfly Poop

I have a memory that I carry from last summer that I hold near and dear to my heart. One of my really good friends was sitting, back against the wall, crying. She suddenly started laughing, really hard, but tears were still streaming down her face. Through her sobs and her laughter, she choked out, "Kea. . . . . .Keagen. . . . . .  .what's that. . . . . .  . THING. . . . . . . you say about butterflies and poop?"

It took me a couple seconds to get it. "Huh? What are you TALKING about?"

Still crying, she said, "You know. . . . . . . . the unicorns. And rainbows. . . . . . "

Finally, I got it. Like a sun-rise, the light clicked on for me.

"OHHH! You mean, 'I wish we could all be unicorns, live in the clouds, eat rainbows, and poop butterflies.'"

Her tears dried up as she laughed harder. "That's the one! That's the kinda day I'm not having. I want to have a butterfly poop kinda day."

Today, I want one, too.