When my oldest was in preschool, his teacher sent home a paper feather and directions for the children to decorate it with anything found around the house. According to the steps, it was critical that this should be completed by the child and not the parent. I obliged, and the next day we turned in a feather decorated with dry rice, beans and a few sequins we found.
That afternoon I walked into the classroom to find all the little feathers hung proudly on a wall. I was in shock! Apparently, my little boy was going to school with 4 year old equivalents of Picasso. There were feathers that looked like they belonged on Bob Mackie couture and some were so detailed it was as if they had been plucked right off a turkey. And there in the center was my little boy’s feather. It was like a pop up camper surrounded by million dollar homes.