The day before my son’s seventh birthday, I decided to throw together a small scavenger hunt so we could celebrate as a family.
(The next day, I knew, would be a volcanic blur of chaos with his friends.)
I made five clues that I planted around our neighborhood–one to a beloved neighbor in our building; another to a sneaker shop whose shoes he had been coveting all year–as well as a handful of local places he begs to go to every other day, where we pretty much always say, “No.”
The clues were deeply silly—some rhymed, some were word puzzles–all were inside jokes that cracked him and his brother up.
He discovered his first clue taped to the front door as we came home from school.
His last clue arrived inside his menu at the old school Italian restaurant he loves, where his cousin, aunts and uncle were waiting for him.
It took me about 20 minutes to throw together, was super inexpensive and so much fun.
He told me this was the “best birthday thing” ever.
Even his older brother, who suffers from a mild case of Sour Grapes Sibling Birthday Syndrome, had a blast, in spite of himself.