There is always a game of hide and seek going on at our house.
Sometimes it’s the game when we all know we are playing. The traditional favourite where one counts and the rest hide. An equal playing field. This game gets much more fun as the little ones get older and understand the concept of the rules. (and willingly follow them!)
We have recently moved into quite a large new home so it’s now an extra fun game with some really sneaky hiding spots that you could literally set up camp in and not be found for days. Sounds dreamy huh.
Let’s try to imagine that for a moment, not being bothered for days. Quiet and relaxing, on your own time frame and no interruptions. Sleeping in till noon, day time Sex and the City marathons then dinner at 9pm (if I remember) or whenever I feel like it. Perhaps just a big bag of cheese twisties on the couch and a custard tart for dessert washed down with a nice cold strawberry milk. I think I remember those days, it’s a hazy distant memory rudely interrupted by “READY OR NOT HERE I COME!” Slap, snap back to reality. Oh yeah that’s right, I’m me, I’m old, I’m past my prime and I’m hiding in the basement between the old potty and our Christmas decorations.
Excitement and anticipation are overwhelmingly uncontrollable for the fournado and his hiding places; his giggles get louder and louder as I verbally guess where he clearly isn’t until he can’t take it any longer and completely gives away (that and the manchild sized feet poking out from under) his prized hiding spot of behind my bedroom curtains launching at me full speed “IM HERE MUM!” This is always followed by a rough and tumble snuggle of sorts on the plush carpet then chasing him round the house to tickle him some more with his sister laughing in pursuit trying to keep up and get in on the action.
The baby is actually quite good at this game too; although usually when we are not actually playing the game and rather need her for something important like getting everyone in the car – already running late for an appointment or child related activity of some sort. Social little buggers, they have more on in a week than I have on in a month. Her favourite spot is in her built in robes, ever so quietly seated reading a story while the rest of us frantically run around thinking we are one family member down.
Then sometimes it’s the game where I am hiding from the children in the house for a moments peace but they don’t actually know it. I like to play this one at around 3:30pm when my stomach realises I haven’t actually had lunch yet and now that you mention it a quick glass of water wasn’t much of a breakfast either.
For this game I save up the ‘safe’ craft activities for them to do (read: no scissors, no glue, no paint, no textas, no pencils etc) and set them up at the children’s table while my cuppa is steeping. Today was paper and number stickers. Seems harmless right? Well after my quick tea break I return to find baby Juju looking like she is now a member of a sporting team with numbers very carefully stuck to her back, her onsie untucked, (what is in there now!) stickers on her eyebrows and a million little number stickers all over the kitchen floor and stuck to the walls – clearly the work of the Fournado.
But mostly it’s the other game, the game where the children gang up on us parents to hide things – usually the most vital things. Example. The TV remote control. It’s kinda big right… Surely you can’t hide it that easily? Wrong! God help us if we have to get up off the couch to change the channel one more time… Not so bloody easy when you have Foxtell and have to do rapid fire fingers like the old pinball games or the like pig on Toy Story to get past the 600 or so crap sport channels to get back to the good stuff like E & Arena. This is critical viewing for ones sanity!
Another example is the parents unit of the baby monitor. I fear that it is long gone now along with all the Tupperware lids and my hair ties. RIP.
My most recent example is my pearl earrings. My favourite pearl earrings.
I don’t like to sleep with them in and usually put them in my jewellery box but this particular night I was already in bed yawning up late on Instagram so I took them out carefully placing them on my bedside table.
Rookie mistake right there.
Next morning we all wake after another night of musical beds and low sleep. The children always come into our room for a snuggle in our big bed and this particular morning they both had a tumble on the floor, rolling around playing and giggling. Shortly followed by me remembering that late last night I left my pearls on the bedside table. I know I did. And now they are clearly not there. Eeek!
“WHERE ARE MY PEARLS!” I yell looking deep into the soul of a certain four year old.
“I dont remember” was his meek reply
I know it’s you and by God I’m going to prove it….
“You didn’t leave them on the table did you?!” this is not the time Muž, not the time
Looking beside the bed its a mini jackpot, one is safely on the ground. Phew so where’s the other pearl baby…
Now looking for these earrings is not an easy feat; white pearls, white carpet, white pillows, white sheets and white quilt cover – sensing a theme?
After carefully combing the floor, the bed, the sheets and blankets then in a mad rage pulling the mattress and ensemble apart, dragging them across the room AND looking behind the (white) bed head it was a lost cause. Furious at myself for leaving them there I now only had one half of my Mother’s Day present from the previous year spent on the Gold Coast. Half a memory. Dang it! I admitted defeat and put the bedroom back together sulking like a teenager.
After breakfast it was time for Juju’s nap, so I changed her nappy ready to put her in her ‘baggy’ (armless sleeping bag) and what do you know rolls on out of the back of the wet nappy; my bloody pearl! You little ripper!
“I knew it! It WAS you Fournado!!!”
“Stop putting things in your sisters pants!” (this is not the first time, there has been jigsaw pieces, random toys and tea party accessories just to name a few)
Juju was wondering what all the fuss was about but probably also what that pinching sensation was in her pants while I was thinking THANK God she didn’t poo!
So if you are ever looking for something and your son is as mischeivious as mine…check the babies nappy. Quickly.
Before she poos!