How the Larva of a Moth Helped Name Their Sister

On his way inside this morning, Nolan found a caterpillar on the patio.  He made a home for it in a plastic container filled with leaves and kindly offered it a small ball to play with.

The Aunts took interest.  They were anxious to know what this fuzzy creeping thing could become (assuming it survives Nolan).  Olivia brought in her Family Field Guide of Butterflies and a very serious search ensued at my kitchen table.  With no results.

I googled "White caterpillar with black spikes", which furnished a link to a design blog with the answer:   Nolan's friend will someday be a Harvester Tussock Moth.  Now we know.

He named it Tree Head.

That same design blog linked to a 1940s song and dance.  The song was lame (in my humble opinion), but thankfully I skipped ahead to take a look at the dance.  It was a tap dancing lady (apparently pretty famous) and she was amazing.

See?  Amazing.

What does a fuzzy white caterpillar and a spirited tap dance have to do with design?  I didn't stay long enough to find out.  The name Tallulah distracted me.

"If someday you have a sister," I said to my boys, "her name will be Tallulah."

We all got a kick out of that one.  After the laughing ebbed, after we lost interest in repeating the name "Tallulah" in interesting ways, a sobered Nolan said in his most pensive tone, "I want to name my sister Dinosaur."

"How about Dinosaur Tallulah Mitchell?"  I offered.  And we were satisfied.  So there you go.

Dinosaur Tallulah Mitchell.

I'm sure PTB will be psyched.