I do — a small box of fossils I collected as a kid with my parents, all found along the Jurassic Coast on the south coast of the UK. It’s not a massive collection, but it’s got some proper treasures: ammonites, a shark tooth, and one extremely dodgy rock I was convinced was a dinosaur egg. (It’s definitely just a rock. But let’s not ruin the magic.)
It’s not just a collection — it’s a memory box filled with seaside holidays, muddy boots, and the thrill of finding prehistoric treasure before lunchtime.
Now I can’t wait for Ollie to be old enough to dig them out with me. He already knows the names of more dinosaurs than I do — and I just know he’ll absolutely love fossil hunting. Hopefully without claiming every pebble is a T. rex tooth. (Although… no promises.)
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