Father-of-pearl

George insisted on bringing home a load of these tiny shells yesterday.

After asking me to wash them, he dumped a handful on my desk, in a way that suggested he'd quickly lost interest.

It turned out he'd decided to share them out between his mum and me. It also looked like he'd put some thought into sorting them - giving me the plainer ones, whereas Mo's were fancier, with more mother-of-pearl on them.