You know what happens when you die? You get to be whatever you really, really, really want to be.
Mommy, what do you really want to be?
Happy.
O.k., well you could be a happy penguin. Penguins can be happy little guys. Would you like that? Then we can be penguins together when I’m dead too.
The only thing is, no matter how hard a penguin flaps his wings, he can’t fly. So if you want to fly, I think it is better to be a butterfly.
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