A long time ago, like back in 1987, say, I had some pet guinea pigs. At one point, for reasons that I no longer remember, one of them died. (Well, all of them obviously did, eventually). Again, I don’t remember why I did this, but I attempted to mummify this particular one. I wrapped him in something, and built a little coffin for him. I used a metal lid, writing something on it as a commemoration. I paced off from the flag pole and started digging.

Flash forward to a couple weeks ago when we were in Springfield. I suddenly remembered what I had done and grabbed my dad’s metal detector. Abby and Whitney were the ones who actually found it with the metal detector, but all of the grandkids were there and watching as I dug up the old box.

Amazingly, there was still writing on the lid, meaning we didn’t need to do carbon dating to see when I had buried it. Me and Abby picked through the dirt, and whatever it was I had wrapped the animal in and found most of its bones.