I Went Extreme Rock Climbing Today *UPDATED*

This is the carpet runner that goes up our stairs. This section is from the landing:"Um, so what?!" You might ask. Look again. There are twelve cleverly disguised ROCKS on this carpet runner on the stair landing. Do you see all of them? I didn't either.

There were at least three more on actual stairs, disguised by the same carpet. I found them, one by one, by FEEL today, usually while taking laundry or a child up or down the stairs. Each time I stepped on one, I picked it up and took it away, only to discover another one later.

You'd think I'd only have to worry if the rug looked like this. But it is apparent that I am entering a whole new level of the rock collecting and stashing - in plain sight, but not. Clever little rock fiends. This had to have been a several day project for Henry - his little fists only hold one rock each. That's at least six trips to the stairs with a pair of rocks (assuming we went out to the car at least once in a day, where he collects them en route). I have no doubt Cal helped arrange them strategically, but still, this is quite an operation.

It means I need a new rug, new feet, new eyes, and a system of fist inspection before anyone is allowed on the stairs. Not to mention some understanding of why rocks are so endlessly fascinating and necessary.

***UPDATED to add - *** I found this cache in a corner by the bookcase...And learned that his fists have a larger capacity than I gave him credit for. Also that he has a special relationship with his little handful of feet and ankle wreckers: When I told him they had to go back outside and tossed them out the back door, he stood there with his face pressed up against the glass chanting his farewell with a heartfelt dimunitive: "Bye-bye, Rockies. Bye-bye, Rockies." (None of us call them "rockies," I assure you.)