Buried treasure has enthralled the human spirit since the beginning of time.  As a species we like to get something for nothing, we like to find things that are hidden, and we get excited by the very thought of finding something secret, something special.  Its hardwired into us at some molecular level.

History is full of examples, adventure seekers, some with lofty ideas, others with avarice infused spirits.  Treasure seekers, one and all.  Maybe it was god they were after — maybe it was land.  Either way, resistance was futile.

And so it was for me this last Sunday.  Keeping a six and a half year old boy entertained can be harder than you think when you eliminate television, video games and the computer. Eventually you know that at some point you will hear those words you dread…

“I’m bored Dad.  There is nothing to do.”

Ugg.  That’s right — Ugg.  Next to the often chanted “Are we there yet?” the boredom line is second on the list of patience building phrases our little bundles of joy utter that drive us crazy.

Well today I was ahead of the curve — I was ready.  I patiently waited for the statement to come, patience.. patience.  Now, you have to understand, as Father’s we are in a great many respects, nothing more than big kids (just ask our wives).  As such we like sit back and savor the sweet glow of delight that happens when we truly surprise another family member.

“Dad… I’m bored.  There is nothing to do.” Maverick said.  The time had come.

“Bored you say huh?  Hmmm… Well, its a nice day out, grab your shoes we are going on a hunt for Buried Treasure!” I say with giddy delight.

Its at this point during the flurry of excitement that I let my son know we are going to try our hands at Geo-caching.  Geo-caching is basically a big game of hide and seek.  Players take a container of some sort and hide it in random location.

To the rest of the world — they are no wiser.  To the geocacher with the caches longitude and latitude location, it offers a way to live out a Father and Son’s Buried Treasure Adventure.  When a cache is found, the log book is signed, a treasure is taken out and replaced by another.  Pretty cool concept to be honest.

So off we went, with what I thought was my elite entry level Garmin Nuvi automobile GPS.  You could feel the excitement in the air as we  reached our first destination.  With GPS held in front we navigated to our destination and… could not find the cache.

After consulting with my engineer friend Paul, I quickly learned that the automobile GPS devices are not really the best choice for geocaching.  Crap, there goes that budding activity.  But like so many other times, Paul has a unit that will fit the bill that he said I can borrow.

Until then, Maverick and I will be thinking of buried treasure and the adventures to come as Father & Son.

Autumn was always the season that I had a love/hate relationship with. Growing up I loved the cool crisp weather, it was always a welcome break from the humid hell of a summer we usually endured here in Illinois. But at the same time, I would dread it like a visit to the dentist when I knew I had a cavity.

As fortunate as I was to grow up where I did, and I do consider myself truly fortunate — the three fully grown, oak trees in my backyard were a force to be reckoned with in autumn. On a good day, one could clear the backyard in oh, maybe 25 bags.

So you can imagine why it was then that I avoided it like the plague, and how this potential for manual labor would contribute to my love hate relationship with autumn. It was then as you can imagine, highly humorous to my Father when my first home had in its backyard a fully grown sugar maple.

I think that tree only dropped about ten bags of leaves. Try as I might, I could not get my wife to rake them up no matter how many foot rubs that in all likelihood would never happen. Damn, she just would not take the bait.

Keeping this in mind you would wonder why I was walking through an a grove of Maple trees at the Morton Arboretum with my wife and son today. As crazy as this may sound given my previous epic tale of man vs. leaves, I really miss having trees.

Our current home, a cookie cutter track house not without its own charms, has a backyard that is a barren wasteland, grass dominates its landscape and nary a single tree claims it as its home — welcome to suburbia.

So we decided to go see the trees at the Arboretum with hopes of finding some that we would “fall” in love with. The great thing about the Arboretum is that the trees and plants all are tagged with both the common and scientific name. This really makes it easy to get the exact same tree you see.

I had to laugh as we started out expedition, I had forgotten the pen and paper and told Karin that we had to go back to the car to get it. She got this sort of bemused look on her face and said…

“Why don’t we just take a picture of the tag?”

Well duh, sometimes I can be a bit slow in the head. My wife did get a good laugh out of it, and to be honest I found it funny as well. As we left the Arboretum, pictures in hand and visions of the color explosions we would one day see in our backyard, I had a momentary flashback to raking leaves.

But this time I pushed it away, they would no longer bother me — this time “I” was the one with a son, and unlike my Father, I will get him to rake… I wonder if my Dad thought the same thing about me?

This Friday is my son Maverick’s first day of kindergarten. I can hardly believe that he is six! It seems like yesterday that I was holding this little bundle of crying boy child in my arms and wondering what his life would be like. Wondering how I would be as a Father.

And now its six years later. We have had bumps, falls, bruises, laughter, crying, joy. We have changed disgusting diapers, smelled things no human should have to smell, and been more excited about potty training than any basketball/football or hockey championship.

We have watched his personality develop and taken pride in his good natured kindness to his friends, family and pets. I have cheered as he has embraced Star Wars, and shaken my head at his insistence on tucking in his shirt, no matter what type.

And now he is headed to kindergarten. Its the start of his school career, and in a way, the end of his innocence. There will be things I can’t shield him from, people who will take advantage of his good nature — slowly, slowly but surely, his innocence will start to be lost.

Its an odd thing to consider really. I love seeing him grow up, and hope that his school experience is more enjoyable than mine ever was. In retrospect I am so glad that we decided to wait until he was six to start kindergarten. He is so much more ready emotionally for school.

I used to dread going to school, and now I find myself dreading this Friday. I know in my head that time doesn’t stop for anyone, but in a selfish sort of way I kind of wish it could. I love him. He is the best thing that ever happened to us, and while I will smile and be excited for him, inside I will, and I know Karin will be sorry to see our baby go to school.