Down to the ground

The year's ending, and I bet everyone  must be looking or remembering some highlights during the year. And since it's more of a habit of mine to try and remember the things I've done so far, I remembered my pre- highschool years. 

When I was in kindergarten, we always had this arts and crafts thing at school. The teacher would write down the materials that we'd need two days before the actual day we'd make it. Of course, the end result is usually crappy stuff, but since we were kids, we'd be proud of our work...most of the time.

There was this one assignment we had that we were required to get some feathers. The teacher prepared sheets of paper with bird drawings on them. We were supposed to glue the feathers and dash some glitter on it. Sounds easy, right? Nope. Gluing and glitter splashing is easy; using the feathers is what's hard. Plus, there's always that one oddball...

We were allowed to share feathers. The bad news was I forgot to tell my parents about said item. Arts and crafts is always after recess and before dismissal, so during the break I asked a kid from my neighborhood to give me some. To my surprise, he gave me his bag of down. When I opened it, I was surprised to find out  that he actually has (around 6 pieces) real duck feathers with him. I took it with me and ate my sandwich that time. 

When it was time for arts and crafts, I saw him doing nothing because he gave me his stuff. I looked at my other classmates' work and the feathers they were using were synthetic. I started feeling weird as I slowly completed my work. At that time, I always leave my name blank on my artwork and place my name only when it's done (a habit that died after this), so I thought that I'd be eat if I left it blank so that my neighbor could claim it at least. I felt guilty that he couldn't do it, and I felt left-out that I was using real ones rather than synthetic ones.

The next day, the teacher handed them out, graded. One bird didn't have a name, and the teacher raised it up so everyone could see and tell whose it was. I pointed at my classmate, but he denies that it was his (so honest). He then said that he didn't bring any and that it was my artwork. None of my classmates stood up either. I claimed that I didn't bring any either, and I was just playing with extra feathers laying around and then tossed it in the garbage afterwards. 

I don't remember the next few details but I clearly remember the two of us being antagonistic to each other afterwards. It's fine though. 

Maybe I'll do some more "flashbacks"

and I'll post them here when I've got the time, eh? It -is- a diary, right?