1 Mother 2 Another

The girls are in this phase of enjoying
scaring the pants of themselves. Call it Hiding From the Giant, or
Run from the Bear, or any other derivative – the main
“plot” revolves around making a great hiding place,
then staying there and trying to stay quiet while concealing
squeals of anxiety for whatever might be lurking outside. We make
tents around couches, and caves under dining room tables, but
nothing compares to hiding in Mommy and Daddy’s bed.

Yesterday we Hid From The Giant, running
up the stairs and pulling the sheet up over our heads. With just a
sheet hiding us, we had plenty of breathing space and room to
wiggle. “Hide, hide, hide!” Cora would whisper
breathlessly, wriggling like a puppy next to me in anticipation.
We’d lie there for a few seconds, then start squirming again
over some imagined noise outside the door.


Eventually, though, simply hiding loses its luster, and
someone’s got to be the giant. This is my absolute favorite
part of the game, because I love hearing what the girls say as they
take their turns as the Giant. Yesterday Maddie wanted to go first,
so she shimmied out of bed and ran into the hallway.


“Fee, fie, fo, fum, I smell the butt of an Englishman!”
(remind me to correct her on that one soon – but I guess it
makes more sense to her than “blood”) Maddie stomped
around the hallway, booming as best an almost-four-year-old can
boom. “Here comes the giant! I’m hungry for some little
girls!” She patted around the bed for a few minutes before
pulling back the sheet with mock ferocity and pretending to chomp
on Cora a la Cookie Monster. Cora squealed and screamed in delight,
then begged to be the giant.


“Fee, fie, fo, uhm, I smell, uhm, feet!” Cora said,
trying her best to remember the script. “Heah comes de
giant!” She pranced around the room, getting ever closer to
the bed. “Heah I come! I de giant! I hungry for some
Maddies!” She pulled the covers back, saying, “Arr,
arr, arr!” and making biting noises. “I chomping you,
Maddie!” she explained.


We’ve been building Caves and Hiding Places all over the
house for a couple of months now, and it doesn’t seem to lose
its luster. I, for one, am all for this game, since I can tell them
to hide from the bear and “Don’t Come Out!” and
buy myself several minutes to get a chore done while they sit
breathlessly under the art easel.


But I also have to admit that I love hiding with them. Those sweet
faces, panting in anticipation and wide-eyed with excitement,
always move me to gratefulness – gratefulness for the time I
get with them while they’re young, while they still believe
in both giants and Mommy’s unquestionable ability to conquer
them.