My Hidden Treasure Trove

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Ever missed playing
'Treasure Hunt' as a kid?  
Well, don’t you worry—  
You get a second chance at it  
When you have kids at home.

There comes a time in your life  
When your most prized possessions  
Start to disappear—  
One at a time,  
Or all at once,  
With no pattern,  
No warning.

Just when you begin to blame  
Age or forgetfulness,  
These long-lost items  
Make a grand comeback,  
Appearing in the most  
Unexpected corners—  
As if they missed you, too.

Let’s talk about the usual suspects:  
Buried deep in sofa cushions,  
Nestled inside the freezer,  
Hidden beneath the trash can,  
Tangled in heaps of laundry,  
Spinning merrily in the washing machine,  
Dangling from the neighbor’s balcony  
(if you live in an apartment),  
Or, for dramatic flair—  
Stuffed inside Daddy’s gym shoes.

And what do they pick?  
Oh, anything and everything.
No discretion whatsoever—  
An old school badge,  
An expensive miniature perfume,  
A pendant,  
An old photograph—  
All fair game  
In the eyes of your little pirate.

And when they return,  
They don’t come quietly.  
They pop out,  
Grinning with mischief,  
Winking at their partner in crime,  
Whispering, “Gotcha!”

Sometimes, if luck’s on your side,  
They even leave behind a trail—  
A rogue scribble on the wall,  
A faint crayon sketch across the floor,  
Or perhaps...  
A splash of your favorite lipstick  
(The one you hunted across ten stores),  
Now artfully smeared,  
Guiding you to a hidden stash—  
Buried deep beneath the soil  
Of your beloved potted plant.

And when you finally find it,  
Gasping in horror,  
Your little pirate grins,  
Waving the remaining half  
Like a consolation prize,  
Giggling at your dismay.

And so begins  
The longest treasure hunt of your life—  
A never-ending game  
Of 'Lost and Found'.  
A memory that clings to you,  
Long after their childhood fades.

Then one day,  
Your home is silent.  
Neat.  
Spotless.  
Still.

And that’s when you’ll long for it—  
The clutter,  
The chaos,  
The laughter in the mess.  
For all that remains  
Are the memories—  
Tucked within your heart,  
In plain sight.  
Forever.

Because in the end,  
The real treasure  
Was always yours to keep.

________________________________________

Author’s Note

I sat on the living room floor, picking up a million toys—and sometimes the most random hidden stuff from every nook and corner—unknowingly performing the most complicated yoga poses in the act.  
Gosh! What a mess!
I sighed and groaned as my back ached from the exhaustion.  
Then I stretched and looked around the room… only to find two pairs of adorable little eyes peeking out from behind the curtains.  
I couldn’t help but smile.  
I beckoned to my little mess makers, and they came running into my arms, hugging me tight.  

And just like that… I knew this chaos was my treasure trove.


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