Feather Your Nest??

Ah, Sunday mornings. . .not much to do. . .just sit back and relax while my well oiled machine of a family gets itself ready for church. Yhea, right. Actually, I was feeling pretty good about our prospects of actually getting to church on time. In a rare move of preparing in advance, I had laid out all clothes--including shoes and socks--for everyone in the family. (We had been 2 minutes late last week and had to sit in the folding chairs--ouch!--so we set a goal to leave for church 20 minutes early. Mind your our church building is a mere 4 houses away. Yes, only 4 houses away and we have to set the goal to exit the house 20 minutes early in order to actually arrive in time to get a pew. The 15 minutes early goal of last week just didn't cut it. Needless to say, rounding up children at our house is a lot like herding cats.)

But we had set a goal, I had set out everyones clothes the night before, and Richard had no meetings. We were set for success!

I was in the kitchen feeling good about our on-time prospects when Maddie came in, frantic, muttering "Just ground me! Just ground me!" My stomach churns. Dare I ask? Do I want to know? She now has a full size push broom in her hand and is zipping back towards her bedroom with it held high over head. I will not be deterred in our goal! "What's going on Maddie?" She mutters, again, something about a feather pillow. After questioning, she explained that she had "accidentally" stepped on a pillow that she "didn't know" had a rip in it. The problem. . . feathers had overrun her room. Hmmmmm? Push broom? "You might want to use the vacuum on that one," I respond, calmly. "I think its broken" she replied over her should, running with push broom in hand, high over head. Hmmmm. It worked just fine yesterday.

I made my way back to the bedroom and found the vacuum turned over in the hallway. It looked like this:

It was feather run amok. Feathers as far as the eye could see on every horizontal surface of her bedroom. Under the bed, on the beds, thick on all the dressers. This was no accident. This was definitely a child experimenting with some wild feather fantasy.

I was semi-impressed that she'd tried to clean them up by herself without mentioning said disaster to her mother. I thought we might have been done in, derailed. But thankfully the shop vac from the garage sucked all those feathers up, even the ones from the overrun regular vacuum.

We got in the car to leave for church and found the battery was dead--kids using that same shop vac to clean out the car had left the lights on the previous day. So we walked. We still made it to church on time. Like I said, it's only 4 houses away.

So I took Nancy's Challenge. With apologies to Dr. Suess, I give you "The Feather Fling" (Savanna says she wants to do some illustrations. She suggests a glum girl in her bedroom around 10 years old looking at car tail lights leaving the house when the doorbell rings by a "Celebrity Cheerer Upper" named "Anna Sophia" Ha! To be said to the tune of "Green Eggs and Ham")

I am sad

I am sad

Sad I am

Feeling bad!
Feeling bad!
I do not like to feel so sad.

Would you rather you were glad?
Then you wouldn't feel so bad.
I will help you! You will see! I'll delight you easily.
A feather fling is what you need. Feathers cheer you up in deed!

A feather fling? A feather fling?
I've never heard of such a thing
Whatever could a feather do?
It's best I bid to you adieu.

Fling the feathers! You will find.
Flinging brings you peace of mind.

Try it! Try it! You will see.
You'll feel glad! I guarantee!

A feather fling! A feather fling!
A feather fling is just the thing

To turn your glumness into glee.
Watch them drift up merrily.

{pause. picture the child plucking a single feather from her bag, looking skeptical}

Feather one. Feather two.
Feather landing in my shoe.

Feather three. Feather four.
Feeling better? Try some more!

Feather five. Feather six.
Toss them from my bag of tricks.

Feather seven. Feather eight.
Yes! Hoorah! I'm feeling great!

Feather nine. Feather ten.
Take a rest then start again.

One two three four.
Feathers filling up the floor.

Five six seven eight
Can you now appreciate

The joyousness that feathers bring
I feel so happy I could sing!

Out the door
Down the hall
Through the windows
Watch them fall

Eight seven six five
Feathers make me feel alive!
Four three two one.
Surely I was never glum!

They fly so high they touch my nose
They're on my face and hands and clothes

I love to watch the feathers float.
It's like a river! There's a boat!

Swimming in them like a duck.
I can't believe in my good luck.

Hold your breath. We'll take a dive.
Watch me dance a feather jive!

Swirling, spinning feathers floating to the sky!
Deeper! Higher! Giddy watching feathers fly!

{A sudden realization that feathers have overtaken the room--perhapse a picture of her mom returning}

Oh no! I need an alibi.

We will clean them! You will see!
We will sweep them thoroughly.

A feather here a feather there
Sweep them up without a care.

Dust the lamp, shake my hair,
(I plucked one from my underwear!)

They zip into the vacuum hose
(Achoo! There came one from my nose!)

Feathers disappearing fast.
Feather flings are unsurpassed!


One two three four.
Finally we see the floor.

Five six seven eight.
Mom will sure appreciate

Our thorough ways and tidiness
Finding feathers is the best!

Eight seven six five
Almost gone! Say your goodbyes.

Four three two one.
Our feather fun is now all done!




There you have it folks. We turned our would be disastrous morning into our own Dr. Suess book. When life gives you scurvy, make lemonade.