I’ve never read Treasure Island, but I’ve heard parts of it, and I imagine it’s a pretty good read. Buried treasure, a secret map, X marks the spot…
We built a castle tonight to hold buried treasure. And when I say “we,” I mean that my two-year-old placed about three, maybe four of the blocks and I, more than willingly, built the rest. As “we” were building, we talked about our secret treasure that Daddy wasn’t allowed to know about. Of course, similar to her technique in Hide & Seek, my daughter promptly walked over to him to explain that we were making a castle with hidden treasure inside.
Hmm, what part of “Shh! Don’t tell Daddy, it’s a secret” did we miss here?
But he’s a good daddy, and played the part of oblivious nincompoop with perfect precision.
“We” sketched out a treasure map on parchment paper with a quill (in other words, on a ripped-out sheet of notebook paper with a big purple marker) to help our naïve treasure-hunter find his way; you know, just in case he couldn’t see the big, colorful block-tower dominating the livingroom floor. It’s a good thing we did, too! He totally would have missed it. Daddies can be so silly.
Accompanied by his nine-month-old sidekick, he followed my hastily dashed line with uncanny precision: counting out each dash, scuffling along when it got sloppy, etc. They finally arrived at their destination, where the baby singlehandedly (er, with a nudge from Daddy) brought down the entire fortress to reveal a “priceless” (a.k.a. gaudy plastic) ring resting on a block with the letter X.
X marks the spot.
I wonder if that’s how the book plays out…