My 3 yr. old son was watching children’s tv this morning and a boy said something about “butterflies in my stomach.”
My son frowned. “Butterflies in the stomach? That isn’t possible,” he said. I tried to explain that when people say they have butterflies in the stomach, it means they are in love. I don’t think I ever discussed the emotion of being in love with him before. He tells me when he is sad, angry, happy, scared. But in love? No. In a way, this is how we start limiting ourselves: we explain what metaphor belongs to this concept called love, and that’s that. For the rest of our lives, to be in love feels like butterflies in the stomach.
Meanwhile, the tv showed how the young boy and girl soared over cities, mountains, skies and rivers with a big red balloon. After which my son concluded, “I want to eat butterflies for lunch too.”