"Grammy, you changed your table." This from a 7-year-old grandson. Well, yes, I did. I moved the stack of library books from the dining room table to another stack in the living room, put the Halloween candy bowl in the basement storage room, sorted and recycled the mail, put a bag of purged clothing into the car, hung all the coats that were draped on the chair backs. No wonder he noticed the table was different. He said, "It looks like fall."
Such a sweet boy. Because that's what I was going for. Never mind that the hutch behind is still full of summer seashells. The table is fall.
But what fascinated the 7-year-old and his brothers, 9 and 11, were the pheasant feathers. What kind of bird is that from? What does it look like? (We're suburb dwellers - no pheasants around here.) I tried to explain...well, it's kind of like a turkey but not, has beautiful long tail feathers, lives in fields...but - their attention had waned.
Relating this to friends later, one of them said, "Why didn't you show them the taxidermy pheasant you have in your hallway?" Okay, duh.
Yes, there is a stuffed pheasant in the hallway. I look at it every day of my life. It's so familiar that it doesn't even register anymore. Obviously.
Maybe I'll remember the next time they're over. Bird brain, indeed.