One of my favorite little games Ian likes to play is “cocoon” where he’s a little helpless caterpillar in a cocoon. He moves over to me with his blanket pulled up over him and tells me that he’s in a cocoon and whimpers like a puppy. I shower him with affection and excitement over how incredible it is that he’s soon going to be pushing out of the cocoon to become a wonderful butterfly.
He resists, “no dad, I’m just a caterpillar in a cocoon. I’m not turning into a butterfly yet!” I say, “oh, sorry! You’re still a little caterpillar in his cocoon!” and I cuddle him and play along.
I say, after some quality cuddle time, “I love my little cocoon caterpillar, but I sure wish he would come out and be a butterfly soon! I miss playing with him!”
We don’t usually do this for long before he’s bursting out of his blanket as a “little kid butterfly” who obviously, as he makes sure to explain, still need dad to shower him with cuddles and affection.