super seeker

last thursday found me squatted on the floor in the dark of our coat closet.  and as i rocked back and forth on my heels in the silence, i came to a startling revelation that super is actually quite the expert at something besides stinking up our house.

so let me explain, and in my typical fashion, i'll make a short story long.  i try to get the kids outside every day -- nothing better than fresh air, and goodness knows they need to exert some energy -- but i have my limits.  my limit that particular thursday was 28 degrees.  the day before it had been a balmy 31 degrees, and i had spent 15 minutes bundling up the kids in about a zillion layers before we all traipsed out into the backyard.  liam and i attempted to play football, which is comical even under normal circumstances since i've never quite learned how to catch or throw the dadgum thing.  but that day was especially pointless, since his hat (well, chris's hat, since my kids both have absolutely enormous heads that no children's hats will fit) kept sliding down his forehead blocking his vision, and my wool mittens prevented me from getting any sort of grasp on the ball.  meanwhile, susanna was stumbling around the playset like a mummy, trying to heave her twice-as-large body onto a swing and becoming increasingly frustrated when she could never quite make it.  we lasted all of five minutes before we were all miserable, and i herded the troops back into the kitchen with the promise of hot chocolate and marshmallows.

so anyway.  the following day when it was even colder, none of us were interested in repeating our outdoor adventure, so i had to come up with some ways to burn off steam inside.  chris and his creative self had invented "Critter Races", where the kids place their favorite stuffed animal on their heads and try to walk the length of our upstairs hallway without dropping it.  after dozens of relays, we then did our own version of calinsthetics, with jumping jacks and running in place, and after that moved on to Dance Party Mann Style, where they showed off their own signature moves to the soundtrack of "glee" (which pains chris to no end, but since he's at work, there's not much he can do about it.)  hullabaloo was also a great diversion for a while. and then we wrapped up our P.E. hour with a few rounds of good ol' hide-and-seek.

we certainly do not live in a mansion, so really, no round of hide-and-seek should take more than a minute or two.  i've even further reduced their hiding place options by insisting they KEEP AWAY FROM THOSE WINDOW PANELS THAT COST A SMALL FORTUNE WHICH I DO NOT WANT RIPPED DOWN FROM THE WALL OR SOILED BY GRUBBY FINGERS.

but somehow, it still takes my children forever to seek, which brings me back to the beginning of this post.  there i was in my crouched position in the dark hall coat closet, my ankles growing numb as the minutes ticked by.  and while i heard the kids squealing with laughter as they moved from room to room, i realized that there's one member of this family who is actually pretty darn good at this game: super.  the entire time i was hiding, super stood mere inches away from me on the other side of the door, sniffing at it and whining and totally blowing my cover.  (not that the kids even noticed.)

so while other people have dogs who can hunt, or fetch the paper, or do cute parlor tricks, we've got the Hide and Seek Master.  but have i shared this nugget of information with the kids?  heck no.  this is my little secret.  super is my ace in the hole.  these frigid temperatures might linger on through march, and i need all the help i can get.