November 28, 2001


I played hide-and-seek over Thanksgiving with Rachel’s three youngest nieces, ages five, five, and three. I totally kicked butt.

First round I hid in the utility closet. Little kids don’t like looking in dark places so this kept them busy a good ten minutes, an eternity in this game. Finally Samantha opened the door, no doubt praying I wasn’t in there. Suffice it to say, that’s the last time she looks for me in that closet.

Second round I sat in the living room while they headed the way they always head, clockwise from the pantry. Then I snuck back to the pantry (the pantry’s where the “seekers” count while the “hider” hides). Sydney, when she finds me, is like “How did you do that?” so I’m like, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Without us actually saying anything.

Third round I dominate. First I’m in the middle bedroom on the top bunk of the bunk beds, behind a bunch of towels. The girls come in three, four times, but never think to look behind the towels. I wait until they’re out of earshot, then move to the laundry room and from there to the dining room where I sit next to Charles, the father of two of the girls, and read the Wall Street Journal. Hannah, his three-year-old, runs up saying, “Daddy, Daddy, help us find Michael,” so I say, “Where have you looked, sweetheart?” and she starts telling me where she’s looked but then realizes… hey, what the…? and can’t say anything. She tries but nothing comes out.