So we have a coat tree. We've had it forever. I don't actually remember when we got it or who got it for us or if we bought it ourselves. I'm fairly positive we moved it to Georgia. And I'm fairly sure that it's Amish. It's been used in our foyer, in a closet, in the basement, etc. It gets a TON of use because I rarely clear the stuff off it and with 6 people throwing (yes, throwing) coats and jackets and such in the general direction of the coat tree, it's typically overloaded. I wouldn't say I *love* the coat tree, but it's definitely been a useful piece of furniture for some undetermined, but lengthy, period of time.
That is until Wreck It Beckett came along. Somehow within months of that child becoming mobile our coat tree, hence undamaged through 3 other boys and years of use, was broken. Even more amazing was that somehow he managed to pull that thing over and break 2 of the hooks without injuring himself. He's an impressive child!
So we've been using the crippled coat tree for months. It was actually kind of ridiculous to see how we attempted to balance a family's worth of crap on 2 hooks (and of course the ever-so-classy solution of just throwing stuff over the top.) Bob and I decided we should fix the thing up before fall coat season. So I hit up ebay and bought some new hooks. I got all fancy and decided to buy 8 hooks instead of 4 so we could install some child-level hooks in an attempt to make Z and B a bit more independent. (I'll let you know how that goes...) The hooks I bought were black - mostly because they were significantly less expensive than the pretty nickel coated ones I really wanted. Maybe someday we will upgrade our coat tree hooks, but for now cheap is good.
Bob came up with the idea of painting the tree black. It is oak and, while a beautiful wood, didn't really match anything in our current house. So I agreed and we bought a can of black spray paint. We are super fancy, y'all!
At some point on Sunday Bob took the tree into the backyard and painted it black. Honestly, I didn't think anything of it. This had turned into his project and I was busy doing other stuff. Later in the day, after kids and dogs had been in and out of both front and back doors about a million times, Zane asked if he could take Ozzie downstairs. We said yes, but asked him to let Oz outside when he got down there. We went on with our business.
10 minutes later Zane came RUNNING into the room. He exclaimed, "DAD! There's an X in the backyard!!!" We heard him, acknowledged, but didn't really comment. He went on excitedly, undeterred by our lack of enthusiasm, "It's a BLACK X!" This time we looked at him with a somewhat confused look on our face while thinking "yeah... ok... your point...", but saying nothing. So Zane then got to the point, while doing the little dance he does when he's really amped up about something. Arms shaking, doing little hops, he asked, "Do you think we should go do some digging?!?!?"
We then burst out laughing.
Zane, bless his little innocent heart, thought that a black X in the middle of the backyard must certainly have been placed there as an indication of buried treasure.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love being a mom? :)
May you all find some treasure in your backyard this week. Just look for the X!!
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