Hide And Seek

She doesn't really know how to play the game yet.

Sparkling with giddy excitement and just a touch of fearsome nerve, she darts through the house, hiding in secret spots while her daddy counts to ten. He's a good sport about it -- the conspicuous hiding places and predictable routines of this repeated game. Winking over at me while counting in his most ominous tone, I think he's the most gorgeous man alive.

From a back room she squeals with laughter, signaling her readiness to be found. Her willing seeker sets off, pretending to wonder where on earth she could be hiding. Knowing without a doubt that she's squatting -- yet again --behind the pink recliner in her sister's room, but still putting up a big wondering fuss over her elusive whereabouts. He pulls open the closet door with an impressive amount of confidence that he will find her...but to no avail. He appears comically confused. Next, the bed is peered under, blankets are ruffled, toys are tossed aside. Through nervous peals of laughter, she suddenly yells, I'm behind the chair! She jumps out, proud of her ability to stump her daddy again. He shows appropriately gushing admiration for her stealth and ingenuity, and switches gears. It's his turn to hide.

She orders him to run and hide right here! But, not willing to be beaten again, he refuses to follow her guidelines. She gives begrudging approval of his idea to hide in a place un-dictated by herself, and turns her face to a wall to count. Sometimes her one through ten goes by in a flash...sped up by excitement...and sometimes it drags on as she savors the anticipation of the hunt. Ready or not! Here I come! Where are you daddy?! Hugging a teddy bear in the crook of her arm, she moves through the house with stiffened, nervous legs. She knows it'll give her a fright when she actually finds him, but oh! the happy torture it is to wonder when, and where.

From behind a door, he jumps out as she peeks around it and they both scream their greetings. Their noise dissolves into laughter and giggles, and the game repeats.

I watch, entranced, while she practices the art of hide and seek. I can't imagine what the next several years will bring. My sweet girl -- shouting out her exact location, willing to be found in the same place time after time -- is growing into her secret self.

How much longer will she announce her hiding places? How much longer will she want to search for us knowing she's nervous to actually find us?

In that sense, is it wrong to hope she never really knows how to play the game?