My nephew Hunter’s 10th birthday was this past weekend. We surprised him with dinner, followed by cake, ice cream, and presents at gram’s house. Among his presents were two wrestling belts, one black and one white. Hunter was having the black belt opened, while mini me held on to the white one. Once the black belt was free of all wrapping, mini me handed the white belt to pop pop to be opened. Once it was free of all it’s wrapping, she took off running with it. She was gone about a few minutes, but returned to the kitchen empty handed.
My nephew, curious about what she had done with his belt, asked her where it was. She would only reply by changing the question. It only took us a few seconds to figure out what she had really done with it.
My sister Jaci, Hunter, and I spent almost two hours tearing up the whole house searching for that belt. Under the furniture, around, in, on, in every closet in the house, under every bed in the house, on dressers, in dressers, under dressers. We searched every inch of this house and in every spot we knew she would hide stuff, but turned up empty handed.
She had hidden it very well. She said it was hers and when we asked where it was, she would change the subject. She really wanted that belt. We searched her room, what we thought was thoroughly – under the bed, in the toy box, under the covers of her bed, under the mattress, all around the tv and dresser, even under. We searched the whole house again.
Then it dawned on me to look in the box of diapers on top of the dresser in her room – there it was. She started to cry as soon as she had seen we found it. “My belt,” she cried. I had forgotten she was good at hiding things – my lil Houdini!
We had a good laugh and teased about how she’s the reigning champion of hide and seek, if not the greatest little magician we’ve ever known. She can surely make things disappear. I’m guessing I’ll have to get her one of those wrestling belts for Christmas, if not for her birthday.
My daughter has made a name for herself or has become well known with all the teachers at her daycare. Some of you might think ‘uh oh’. She’s honestly a good child. Very smart. Always happy. All the teachers know her as ‘the little escape artist’, so I’m told and have to pay special attention to her when on the playground.
A few weeks ago when I stopped to pick her up from daycare, her teacher told me about her little escape from her part of the playground. I thought, ‘uh oh!’ The way their playgrounds are set up is a little awkward and I can totally see this happening. The entire playground is fenced in. The only way to get into the playground is through a doorway from the building (awesome idea). Each little play area is sectioned off by a fence row, to get into that section you have to go through a gate. Well, my daughter’s playground is the first playground and all the other kids have to walk through her area to get to theirs. So, she takes this opportunity to be a part of their group, squeezing herself into their line, and follows them into their play area.
After a few minutes her teacher discovers my daughter is gone and panics! She’s calling her name and of course there’s no reply. My daughter won’t come when her name is called unless you say I have pancakes or do you want a cookie. Her magic words. Her teacher happens to look over the fence at the other playground and sees my daughter playing over there. She goes over, gets her, and brings her back over to her playground.
I’m told this happens frequently! So each time a teacher is taking over for breaks they know about her little escape tricks.
On another day, the door to her daycare room wasn’t fully closed. My daughter had walked over to the door and opened it all the way. Her teacher turned her head just in time to see my daughter dashing out the door, running full speed for the front door of the daycare. Her teacher just found out how fast my little girl can run.
Yesterday I stopped by to pick her up. We were walking down the hallway to sign out and one of the teachers, I didn’t even know, says, ‘hey, there’s the little escape artist.’ I just laughed and said, ‘actually I call her Houdini at home.’