TREASURE TROVE

Cleaning out the basement is like finding treasure.  It's also a exercise in hope: I hope to find my hammer, I hope to get rid of some junk, and I hope to gain some free space down there.

The treasures I've found so far are impressive.  I find a large baggie full of water balloons just waiting to be filled.  I find finger-boards and finger-bikes and a whole bunch of old mini-ramps.  I find mini-badminton and mini-hockey and mini-Ping Pong.  I also find two rolls of kite string to go with the kites that may or may not be in flyable condition as I have not unearthed them yet.

I rearrange the huge collection of Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars, some leftover from my own childhood.  I also sort through rollerblades and ice skates then Google how to remove rust from skate blades.  Turns out it is relatively easy, so I'll be able to save one pair of figure skates and two pairs of good hockey skates.

I find two old Game Boy systems and a Simon-like small game, all three of which are suffering from battery acid damage.  My youngest is very excited about the game systems.  He is mere hours from boarding a plane to the west coast and is looking for something to keep him entertained on the flight.  No problem.  I mix up a solution of baking soda and water, grab a couple of Q-Tips, and in less than ten minutes, all three electronic systems are good to go.  Well, almost good.  The larger, older Game Boy's screen is busted.  It's nearly impossible to play Micro Machines as my tiny electronic boat keeps getting lost in the tiny electronic bubbles on this broken tiny electronic display. 

The smaller Game Boy, though, ends up in his carry-on with some games.  This is when my son spots the Hot Wheels suitcase.  Right now it is home to the plastic construction set, complete with little orange cones, yellow barrels, small-scale machinery, and little plastic people.  "I should take that as my carry-on!" he says, half-seriously.  It certainly would make a statement out there in Cali.

By far, however, the biggest treasure I find actually is for my eldest son.  I open a container and find a bunch of Pinewood Derby cars from his Boy Scout days.  It's like hitting the jackpot.  I take a picture and send it to him via text.  A couple of them are mine, made by me as a sort of competition.  One of the Boy Scout leader's wife and I ran the Girl Scout troop out of the same location, so we liked to try and keep up with the boys whenever possible.

The last thing I need to do to make the newly organized toys and games area complete is to hang up Jolly Roger in the stairwell, a place of honor, to keep all of our treasures safe.  Seriously!  Nothing like a band of pirates and their treasures, right?