The Creepy Cup

My daughter is a tomboy. She has always been somewhat oafish and physical, I figured it was just because she was a size bigger than most kids her age. Today I realized that I am the proud father of a damn the torpedoes, I don't care if it's icky, 4 year old girl.
Every few years, the tent caterpillars launch a major assault around here. This is one of those years. Annie noticed all the tents in the trees and asked us what it was. We showed her the tents up close and how they were teeming with nasty little caterpillars. Her little eyes widened and she asked us if she could touch them.
"They're soft", she said and told us she was trying to get one to walk on her finger. After that, the coffee cup she had been using as a butterfly transport became a home for any caterpillar that was fortunate enough to cross her path. Our progress slowed to a crawl as she stopped regularly to deposit new friends in what Tina called the creepy cup.
Today when I looked at her with her freshly scraped knee and the patchwork of bruises on her shins reaching for a caterpillar, I realized she's a tomboy (like her mother). She enjoys wearing dresses and pretty bows. I still get kisses and she loves to draw me pictures, but I don't think frogs and snakes are going to be safe in her company over the next few years.
Another thing- here's a picture of me helping her negotiate a patch of poison ivy. Notice she's opening the cup to view her wiggly little chums. How much different would this entry be if she had unintentionally dumped the creepy cup?