Of Our Little Hound

It's been awhile since we've played hide-and-seek as a family, but tonight, as Emmett finished his cinnamon-sugar topped piece of pie crust (a remainder from last week's chicken pot pie), Micaiah begged to continue the hiding game she and Daddy had started before dinner.  Thus, we began many rounds of the game.

She has still not learned the fact that, as Philip puts it, "This is hide-and-seek, not Marco Polo!"  She still responds when we search for her and expects us to do the same (though we are typically much less compliant).  At one point, as she and I cowered in Mommy and Daddy's shower, she was just about to yell out to Daddy who still, unfairly, calls her name while seeking, but I stopped her just in time, "Shh!  We have to be quiet!  Don't answer Daddy!"  The anticipation and sneakiness of it all was just too exciting for her as she let out the occasional squeal of joy.  We were found out.

When it was our turn to seek out Daddy, we made the rounds in all the rooms to no avail.  So while she kept searching, I decided to release the hound.  Emmett had finished his pie crust by now and was eagerly watching our every move.  I knew he had not only seen Daddy, but this little sucker could sniff out his Daddy within a 500-ft radius.  Daddy is, after all, his favorite person.  After wiping his hands and face, I set him on the ground and encouraged him to follow us back to the bedrooms as we continued our search.

"Come on!  Let's go find Daddy!"

Our stubborn boy sat still, though, just between the living room and the entry hall.  Finally he lifted his little arm to point toward the front door and said in a confused tone, "Daddy."  Being that the entryway is where we had counted before beginning our search, we hadn't thought to look there, but knowing Daddy is a pretty sneaky guy, I decided to follow Little Man's leading.  Sure enough, there was Philip, squeezed into the newly-cleared coat closet, where he'd apparently sneaked while we peered in bedroom closets, and had now been for the past five minutes.

That little boy is the best secret weapon ever.