The Great Snape Hunt

Recently, I had the privilege of spending time with my extended family. My eight-year-old great nephew, Nathaniel, reminded me what it is like to be young at heart, mind, and soul.

Nathaniel, or Natedude, as the family calls him, loves soccer—so much so that all he wears is soccer gear. He is the youngest of five children. His blond hair is salted green from swimming daily in a chlorinated pool. What sets Natedude apart is his sibling's age difference. He has a sister who is ten years older than him. The oldest of his four siblings is 22 years old. Growing up with older siblings has taught him to be expressive, well-spoken, and not easily tricked.

Brian, another eight-year-old, and Natedude became fast friends, as kids do at gatherings. The other children close to their age were girls, six of them all younger, outnumbering the boys.

The gathering progressed to after-meal conversations. The adults transitioned into groups. The teens and tweens started a game involving cell phones. They sat at the same picnic table. I believe they were texting each other. Their body language indicated communication, but they never spoke to each other. Curious?

Myself, I found a quiet spot under a shade tree. I had exhausted my thought processing and memories for the day. The two boys, however, were bored and curious about why I was sitting alone. How could I get the boys to move on without being rude? What could occupy their time and allow me to enjoy the shade? That is when it came to me! A good old-fashioned Snipe Hunt! "How would you boys like to go Snipe hunting?" I asked. Their enthusiasm exceeded my expectations. Problem! Natedude seemed suspicious.

Brian became excited and ready for the hunt. Before I could say anymore, Brian said, "Let's go ask my Mom." So off they went, Natedude in tow, towards a group of adults. I could see the boys talking to Brian's mom but could not hear what they were saying. Then, they both pointed to me. I was sitting alone under my shade tree. What could I do? I just smiled and held my water bottle in a toast. She emptied a plastic bag from a local store. Unraveled it and pulled it through the air to expand it like a balloon. She smiled at me and gave the bag to the boys. I then sent the boys to Natedude's grandfather.

I watched as the boys told him their plan to hunt Snape. Brian showed him the plastic bag, and both boys pointed at me again. Grandpa typed something in his cell phone, turning it to show them a picture. They looked at each other with wonder and enthusiasm. Natedude's interest in the adventure notably increased. Grandpa then pointed them to Natedudes's dad.

After a couple of minutes of explaining, the boys shared my idea for an adventure. Natedude pointed to his grandfather. Brian pointed to his mother, and both boys pointed to me as they ran me over with the bus again. I smiled at Natedode's dad and raised a toast with my water bottle.

By this time, five guests joined me under the shade of my tree. Each brought a chair. They commented on how comforting the shade is and humored the evolving Snipe hunt. Meanwhile, with Natedode's dad's help, the boys acquired a tree limb about the size of a broomstick.

Brian and Natedude arrived back at the shared shade tree. They told me Brian's mom gave them the bag to catch a Snipe. Next, Natedude's grandpa showed them what a Snape looked like, and Natedude's dad helped them find a good switching stick to knock the Snape out. "Now what?" asked both boys. I glanced at the listed adults who were standing together. The three smiled and toasted me.

Fortunately, the other adults under the shade tree had shared their stories of Snape hunting. They gave me the fodder to get the boys away on an adventure. We, because this is no longer my solo caper. We sent the boys out shouting, "Here, Snape, Snape, Snape! Here, Snape, Snape, Snape!"

The boys went from one area of bushes to a grove of trees. Shouting repeatedly, "Here, Snape, Snape, Snape!" Their efforts attracted the attention of the girls. Soon, even a couple of the tweens joined them. Next, a dozen kids, holding plastic store bags and a small stick, shouting, "Here, Snape, Snape, Snape!" The adults continued visiting, and the teenagers continued teen-agering on their phones. While the young voices of, "Here, Snape, Snape, Snape!" echoed from tree gove to brush pile.

The evening sun extended the tree's shade, and the air cooled. The boys exaggerated being tired as they walked to my chair, each carrying a plastic store bag in one hand and a swiping stick in the other. They had sweat under their ears and running down their necks. "We couldn't find a Snape," Brian said, "and My Mom says it is time to go."