I'm Not Three Anymore

This week, I played hide and seek with the grandbaby. It was one of those days when you just have this overwhelming desire to be a child again.

He hid. I hid. He hid again. Back and forth we went. He quickly realized I would play along - pretending not to see him, even when he was clearly behind the bush. He joined the game, pretending to search for me even when my "hiding spot" wasn't all that hidden.

At one point, I was crouched behind the porch swing. He walked over, peered around, and said in his sweet, searching voice, "Is she on the swing? Is she under the swing?" Then, with a triumphant grin, he lifted the swing and shouted, "There you are!"

And that's when it happened.

The swing dropped, and the seat smacked me right on the head. I felt it immediately—dizziness washing over me, legs wobbling. This sweet, concerned three-year-old looked up at me and asked, "Do you need to see a doctor?"

Thankfully, his mom was almost home, and our kind neighbor came right over to sit with him outside while also keeping an eye on me. Yes, my head hurt. Yes, I have a bump. But the truth is, it wasn't his fault.

It's just what happens when you temporarily forget your age, decide you're still three, and play hide and seek with all your heart.