February 14, 2011

• It's been a looong time since we've played Hide and Seek in the Dark.  Certainly not in this house, so... it's been at least a year.

  Logan and Wilson were afraid, so at first I hid with them.  On my bed, under the covers, "Look, guys, it' the same as being in bed on a normal, dark night."  Then came Myra, looking for us; she kept up a steady stream of silly chatter -- trying to coax a giggle out of her prey, but also to keep herself company in the dark, quiet house.  Logan and Wilson were marvelously quiet, but once Myra's eyes were accustomed to the dark, she noticed the lumpy blankets.  Found!

  Kendric was It next.  Logan hid in the corner with the laundry basket full of clothes on his lap.  Wilson squeezed between Bri's laundry shelves and the wall.  I stretched out on the floor; Kendric walked right past without noticing.  After several minutes of pure silence, I shouted, "Kendric?!  Are you even looking?"  He answered from the next room, "No, I'm too scared."  I got up and walked with him while he looked -- Logan and Wilson stayed, still and quiet, unafraid, until they were found.  Yay!

  In the next round, Myra decided to slide between the refrigerator and the wall.  It was a tight fit, and Bri wasn't seeking long before Myra gave herself up, "I can't take it any more!  I can't breathe!  Please, help me out!"  Sensible girl.  I don't know but back in the day I probably would have passed out before giving away my position.

  Our house is scantily furnished.  Not a lot of hiding places.  The kids managed to wriggle themselves into some great spots though, and we were getting sleepy long before everyone had a turn Seeking.  I finally suggested that they choose easier hiding places.  Mari's "easier" place was still pretty good: she simply sat atop the (cool) fireplace in the living room; her black pants blended in with the black stove and her grey shirt blended in with the rocks.

  Kirby could never seem to fathom that he had been found without someone ratting him out.  As far as he was concerned, his plan was flawless:  Under the dining room table is the FIRST place anyone looks -- but their eyes are still adjusting from the light, and by the time they can see things, they've already mentally written off the table.  He failed to account for one thing:  these are children you're dealing with, mister, and you can't count on them to do the Expected. 

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