Their First Secret Hideout

Just before bedtime, I made one more trek through the house to corrall any last remnants of our messy day. A baby doll, a pair of shoes, the missing block -- the pieces of fun we'd had all day were mostly gone, picked up by a happy-to-help little girl and her oblivious accomplice; only these few items had been overlooked.

The mess-makers were giggling in the bedroom. They were each supposed to be choosing a story and snuggling in for a relaxing routine, but instead, I heard a door click shut. Peering around the hallway corner, all I could see was a dark bedroom. The shaft of light that should have been lighting the room from the open closet, was gone.

They'd hidden from me. Earlier that day, I'd finally gotten the closet organized enough that most of the floor was bare, and they'd discovered it. The giggling and chattering rose and fell, muffled by the closed door. I tiptoed closer after depositing the last toys in their designated places, and knelt in front of the door to listen.

"Here's a honey diaper for you, sweetie," cooed Mia.

"Ooh, DANK you Mee-YAH!" Lauren sang back.

Their conversation was full of pretend and wonder, drowning down into whispers before the squealing erupted again. They were laughing so hard that both of them, at the same time, had gotten the hiccups.

I couldn't stand it: it was so heart-catchingly sweet, I had to take a peek. Cracking the door open -- just a sliver -- I was immediately found out.

"Mama!" Mia scolded, "We're hiding! You can't open the door!" She drew the door closed to begin their secret games again.

Without me.

Two sisters, making secrets, building their own brand of humor, sharing memories, without me. Bittersweet waves washed over me as I sat back from the closed door. I love their budding closeness -- their sweet dependence on one another -- their tinkling laughter intertwined. I love their relationship and that they'll always have each other.

I'm proud of that.

I'm jealous of that.

But I'm happy for them. Their secret hideouts will probably become more complex as the years pass, but I'll always remember their first:

A closet full of baby clothes, princess dresses, honey diapers, and breathless giggling. An innocent closet, transformed forever.