Buried treasure

A year or so ago, we were on a family trip to the beach when my husband Jimmy decided to organise an impromptu treasure hunt with our two children, Max and Queenie.

We had about $100 in Thomas the Tank Engine trains with us — Max never used to leave home without them — and so Jimmy got the kids to close their eyes as he ran up the beach and found an obscure spot where he buried the toys in a deep hole, covered it over and drew an "X" in the sand above it.

The kids were then instructed to take off and find the "X" in the sand, and then dig to find the trains. Five minutes passed, then 10 minutes, then half an hour. Before long we were all looking up and down the beach for the stupid "X". After three hours of looking we eventually went home with no trains and a devastated young Max. On you, Dad.

But I believe in karma, and last week my children finally got their revenge — although, it wasn't on purpose. It started at 11pm when Jimmy realised his wallet wasn't where he usually keeps it. He knew he'd seen it earlier in the night, so it had to be at home somewhere. He searched high and low, pulling every room apart. He eventually went to bed at 3am with his wallet still missing and woke up at 6am to resume the search.

At around 8am Jimmy decided to search Queenie's room, which was the only place he hadn't looked as she was sleeping. And there... under her bed... in her pink pony jewellery box... buried under her necklaces and bracelets... was Jimmy's wallet. Oh dear! At least we'll know the first place to look next time something goes missing.