The Foorce

This morning on the way up to brush teeth James came across a red craft feather on the stairs, likely from one of Adam’s secretive and destructive treks across the house.

James: Look, a red feather!

Me: Wow, very pretty.

James: I can write with this today (holds feather up like a quill).

Me: Like in Harry Potter?

James: Yeah, see? (proceeds to “write” on the bathroom counter)

Me: Pretty cool. Where do you think it came from?

James: Probably a fox.

Me: A fox? But foxes don’t have feathers.

James: Oh, well then a phoenix.

Me: A what?

James: Like Fawkes the phoenix came here to leave it for me.

Me: Oh, like the phoenix in Harry Potter.

James: Yeah, before he blew up into flames.

Me: I doubt it’s a phoenix feather.

James: Maybe a cardinal?

Me: Could be, but I think it’s a craft feather. What can we use it for?

James: I’ll just add it to my collection.

Me: Your collection?

James: Yeah!

Me: You don’t have a feather collection.

James: No, for my tickling collection. It tickles. Try me (lifts neck so I can rub the feather on his neck, laughs loudly)

Me: What else do you have?

James: My armpits?

Me: No, what else is in your tickling collection?

James: Oh, all of these.

Me: What?

James: (spreads hands) these.

Me: Your hands?

James: No, my fingers. The little ticklers.

Me: Really?

James: You gotta start somewhere, right mom?