Preparation

The squirrel came stealthily with a big green acorn in his mouth and started to dig. He placed the acorn neatly in the groove and covered it up with his tiny paws. Then he patted the dirt down to smoothen the ground and absconded the backyard as swiftly as he came leaving no trace behind... or so he thought. Mom had observed the whole burial service from the kitchen window, which is not a surprise considering her love for squirrel watching (she thinks their fluffy wiggly tails are the cutest things ever).

So she summoned me from the sweet, lazy comfort of my room and directed me outside to the location of the buried treasure. I dragged myself outside, in all my sweat pants and pajama shirt glory, while protesting and pleading mercy for the poor squirrel who is preparing food for the winter for his entire family... probably. But she ignored my false compassion and signaled through the window. "To the left, to the left! No, too far! A little forward... right there!" I spotted the small, barely noticeable mound of dirt, and I was now genuinely curious and interested. So I squatted down, and started digging/poking with a twig. And I could not believe what I found.

I've got it!

That's amazing! Just like dad said (in unbelief) when mom told him about our backyard ninja scroll squirrel, this only happens in fairy tales. After taking the picture I carefully put the acorn back just as I found it, covered it up, and patted down the dirt, not with my hands lest he sniff me out, but with twigs leaving no trace behind... or so he will think. haiya.

Then I went back to playing angry birds while sluggishly rolling around in my bed... only until I got my three stars...

Moral of the story: Proverbs 6:6-11