Newton: What is this? It smells pawesome!
Newton: And WHOA, it blows away in the ceiling fan if you let go to fast. I’ve got to hang onto it more carefully.
Newton: You can’t escape me, feather!
Newton: *SIWSH*
Pierre: Oh, hey, Newt. What’s that? It looks kind of fun!
Newton: Oh, no, you don’t. This is my feather. Go find your own bird and knock it down to get your own.
Pierre: You knocked down a bird?
Newton: There’s a feather here, isn’t there?
Newton: Mine, all mine! Safe from my thieving brother, too. I’ll be able to play with it for hours while he’s off looking for a bird to knock down.
Safety note: feathers are strictly supervised toys in our house.

























