Marley's Birthday: The Treasure Hunt

This year, Marley kept asking for and asking for and demanding a treasure hunt for her birthday. She wanted an extravagant hunt, with dozens of clues and obstacles, and I told Todd, "You are all over that. Don't let the family down."

He did it up right. It was a little glum and damp and muddy when Marley went out and searched for her treasure, but her enthusiasm and delight helped to brighten the morning. (Except, that brightness was tempered by Rudy's, let's say, temper, as she stomped and whined along several feet behind Marley the whole time, not really getting what was going on, and eventually, crumpling and then exploding when she realized that the treasure was for Marley only, even after she had at least been in the vicinity of the clues all along! The injustice!)

There were trails of coins, there was a compass, there were notes and clues hidden under piles of leaves and in the shed and the playground and the basement. There was a message placed a certain number of inches away from a tree (necessitating a tape measure); there were maps and riddles and strategically-placed keys.

Todd's treasure hunt was thorough and thoughtful and clever. He did not let the family down, and I know I can rely on him for orchestrating methodical and careful adventures for Bean and Toot, always. One night last year I was out teaching or coaching or something like that, and when I got back I saw that Marley and Todd had constructed their own Rube Goldberg machine in the playroom, and they had started a chart documenting the machine's successes and failures.

Mostly, hooray for Todd, because eventually, Marley found where X actually marked the spot (with pink and purple sand from our sandbox), and dug up a carefully bagged and wrapped Tinkerbell jewelry box, already containing colorful birthday necklaces and bracelets. She was so happy! (And Rudy was so sad.)