Today Mad and I played hide and seek for the first time. She asked. I never would have brought it up. It was fun! We laughed and hid and sought and laughed some more.
Sounds normal, right?
Did I mention that I was secretly tense the entire time? Seriously.
No, I'm not afraid of a three and a half year old jumping out at me. (Not that she did. She stalks the hider and can barely contain her laughter when it's her turn to be found.)
Let's go back 15 years, shall we?
Corey was the same age as Mad and we played our first ever game of hide and seek. He was terrorized by the hiding. By the seeking. Thought I had left and wasn't coming back. Freaked out. It ended with tears and hugs and confusion.
Looking back, it was the very first sign that things were not as wonderful as I thought they'd been. We never played again.
I know that the game didn't cause Corey's problems. I get it. But I guess I was traumatized by that afternoon, too.
Today Mad and Mama played hide and seek. Then she played with Daddy. Then with Mama again. The only thing that upset her was that it had to end. That little girl is balm for my soul.