My grandson likes to make things. When he was 3 (now a young 4), he decided he wanted to make a snail for a storybook we were reading, and now it all has turned into many impromptu puppet shows that spread out across the living room floor. Of course the story changed and embraced all the toys in easy reach. The lovely thing about creativity is that it does not have to be perfect as in the eyes of others, it just IS perfect by the creation of it, and more-so by using it in a puppet show. I love watching his focus and joy, the determination that is sweet and soft. I celebrate this.
It does not matter that Rosie the cat got hold of mr. snail the next day and loved playing and batting and chewing on it. The process of making it was the joy. And lucky us, now we made another one. A red one this time.