Nicky is in a summer camp this week called Fossil Hunters, run by a private school up on Hamilton Mountain. On the way home today, I asked him what they had done today, and he said that they made a fossil. Being the amusing father that I am, I asked him “Did you find a dinosaur, bury him in sand, then wait a hundred million years and dig him up again?” Nicky said that this is not, in fact, what they did but laughed at the idea, while telling me that they couldn’t do it that way because we’d be dead in a hundred million years. Thanks for that bit of insight, Captain Obvious.
Anyway, as my children often do, they took the idea of burying a dinosaur and ran with it. The conversation went something like this:
Nicky: Maybe we could bury something…
Ryan: Yeah! And then we’d tell our kids where it is, and they’d tell their kids…
Nicky: Yeah! And after a hundred million years, they could dig it up and have a fossil!
Ryan: Yeah! That’d be cool.
Me: What happens if one of our descendants doesn’t have kids?
Ryan: Then we’re screwed.