We’re watching a little puppet show at Andersonville’s annual street festival yesterday.

I give my kids the few singles I have in my wallet to give to the little cat puppets, who entertainingly take the money and parade around.

A small crowd of kids is laughing right under the puppet show stage, jumping and having a good time.

Someone taps me on the shoulder, a man I don’t know. “Is one of those kids yours?” he asks.

He hands me a dollar bill. I give the dollar to my youngest son, who knocks on a tiny door below the main stage. A scarlet macaw pops out and takes the bill from him.