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So picking up a nearby stick (I wasn’t game to touch it) I coached the cater-
pillar onto it and approached my younger brother loudly proclaiming I had
found the rare and highly poisonous bush grub of Duckinwillla.
I must point out that it was my younger brother who as a three year old was
found in the bathroom screaming that he was petrified as a moth flew about
the room. So there was some history of Entomophobia (also known as in-
sectophobia). Being the concerned brother that I am I was determined to
cure him of this irrational fear. I must also point out in my defence of the
following incident that he later pursued a degree in Science and post gradu-
ate qualification in Entomology (perhaps seeking vengeance for the trauma I
was about to inflict).

Approaching carefully and with all the dramatics of Harry Butler I beckoned David to approach and examine the beastie.
To his credit (or folly) he bravely approached to look upon nature’s wonder whereupon I thrust the stick forward scratch-
ing his hand.

At this point I was thinking I may have gone a bit too far. The scream that erupted from the small boy could have woke
the dead. He was sure that he was going to die a slow and agonising death. Where he got that idea is beyond me, I only
mentioned in passing that the caterpillar may have been poisonous. The inventive minds of the young- go figure.