Some friendships weren't meant to last

It all started a week ago when Jessie found a visitor in her room.  It was one of those huge dark brown moths that sometimes come, sit in a corner of your room for a few days, and then disappear without explanation.

Knowing her fear of all small animals, I immediately gushed over the moth when she found it, knowing that if she took exception to its presence and I was unable to relocate it, attempting to continue living life inside our home would be impossible.

Before she had a chance to become frightened of it, I gasped in mock delight, "Oh wow, how wonderful!  That moth can be a friend for you, sitting there on your wall!"  And being the impressionable little thing she is, she took the idea up and ran with it.

Since then, I've heard, "Dad, my friend is there!  Isn't she lovely?"

"My friend is lost!  Oh no!"

"My friend came back to my room!"

"I love her!  She's my friend!"

"Maybe one day my friend will have babies and they will all come to live in my room!"

And so on.

Fast forward to today.  I was settling Woody into his cot for an afternoon nap.  I held him, sang his sleeping song and put him down in the cot.  I moved out of his room and closed the door behind me as quietly as I could so as not to disturb Woody.

Cr-r-r-u-u-n-n-ch!  The soft crackle coming from where the door shut into its frame sounded worrying.

I looked, and saw a dark brown wing-shaped object sticking out from where the door had closed into the dark brown wooden door frame.

Oh no.

Please don't tell Jessie.  Forgive me, but I have killed her friend.