It’s March break here, so the kids are out of school. We are together at a lovely cottage on a lake (compliments of Nana’s thoughtful brother and his wife). After much cajoling the other afternoon, I agreed to join in a hide and seek game. The rules (according to them) were that no one could use their best spot until last, and I had to be it last. My husband was an easy mark to get in the game (although he showed a remarkable propensity for being found quickly so as to get back to his puzzle in between times). Boy two approached Nana (65 and lover of cross country skiing and all things outside), who was already making noises about “no thank you.”
“It’s ok if you don’t play,” he said, “crunching up small for Hide and Seek wouldn’t exactly be good on old joints.”
Girl one took the prize for best spot (with much proclaiming from Boy two that it had been his idea.) It really was a pretty impressive idea. I only found her because her siblings insisted on hanging around “to watch,” thereby telling me I was finally in the right area. After that, it was only because I heard her breathing. The shelves are about shoulder height off the ground in a tidy closet. There’s a better picture below in case you didn’t see her before. Her head is sideways. You can see one eye, her hair, and just barely an ear at the top. We hauled down Nana, old joints and all, to check out her hiding spot.