Butter- flies

Just another moment captured out of life's flow.

It was another of those evening walks, me holding to my dad's hand, and my self proclaimed six year old husband hanging on to mine.

We were hardly six and yet he spent most of his time planning our wedding.

He said he hoped my unruly hair would see some light if not at my shoulders an inch below my chin.

That evening he said hanging on to my little hands for support, he lisped through a two tooth-less gap"I love you".

I was just not woman enough to reciprocate that message and so I counted his lost teeth.

He smiled shyly and said with conviction, "When I marry you I will have all my teeth".

I murmur, "It is not the teeth".

"Then", he turns my face towards his, " what is it?"

I deliver my haunting doubt, " Why should you become a husband? You be you and I me."

He is quick with his reply, " When I become your husband I will hold your hands"

I look down at the way his little fingers curl over mine as we waddle down the evening.

His eyes follow the path mine took and he says, "No not like this. This is non husband hold of hands. "

Just then two yellow butterflies flew in range and I disentangle his non husband hold and he squeals in delight after me as we race after the butterflies.

It was just another moment out of life's books.

Across the years, yellow butterflies still fly in range.