Hurry, Scurry, Flurry!

Dear Jacob,

One of your most favorite things to do is to hide. You play peek-a-boo with yourself in the mirror and if there is a corner anywhere, we all know you will scurry behind it mumbling, "Hurry, scurry, flurry!" which sounds more like, "mmmy, ssssmmmy, flllmmmy!"

Recently I picked you and your brother up from school. Your teacher was discussing something about you when the director kindly said, "Speaking of Jacob, where is he?" You were gone. We had everyone looking for you. I even ran outside in the parking lot panicking and praying that you hadn't escaped out there. For a good several minutes we were calling your name and asking everyone if they had seen you. Nothing.

The director walks into the kitchen and hears a tiny giggle. There you are, crouched in the corner just watching us with a giant smile on your face. I now have 30 more grey hairs and have lost at least 10 years off my life span. I am glad at least one of us thought it was funny. And of all places you would go, why didn't I think of the kitchen first? After all, you are our meatball.

Love,
Mommy