Hide and Seek

I grew up in small-town Iowa.  What a great place to call home!  I remember rushing through dinner on summer nights in order to join the neighbor kids for a game or two before bedtime.  Baseball, kick-the-can, hide-and-seek…  Good times!

I remember once my brother’s friend laid down to hide in the lengthening shadow of a tree.  Apparently having enjoyed a rather large evening meal, he fell asleep.  Our seeking couldn't find him, and like all kids, our attention span is only so long.  We moved on to another game.  When he woke up and found us, he declared himself the winner.  You should have seen his bug bites!  Winning is subjective.

A couple of years ago, Bryce suggested a game of hide-and-seek.  Obviously, with a Granma's keen power of observation and vast experience with the game, a seven year old would not be a problem.  Ok – bring it on!  I hid my eyes and started to count.  How far can a child get in the count of twenty?

As I searched high and low for one very quiet and very still child (quite uncharacteristic of him, I might add), it occurred to me that the world had changed in the intervening decades since my childhood.  Bug bites aside, my son would not be amused if I delivered back one less child than was originally entrusted to me.

My search became more desperate.  “All-ie, all-ie, oxen free!”   Kids today don’t say that, or don’t recognize it as a slightly panicked Granma call – or he’s asleep somewhere.  “Bryce, you win!  We have to get your brother home for a nap!”  That worked!  The pride on his face matched the relief on mine.  Losing, it turns out, is subjective as well.

Maybe I’ll introduce him to kick-the-can instead…