I’m sitting in a cupboard which is underneath my stairs.
Hidden behind the camping gear so they don’t know I’m there.
In the past, when they were small, I had to be quite nifty.
But I’ve much more time to hide myself now they’ve learned to count to fifty.
Of course they were the first to hide, whilst I counted slow and steady.
Managing to make a drink to their repeated shout “We’re ready!”
With mug in hand I answered them, “I’m coming, ready or not!”
And closed my ears to the giggles which give away their spot.
Wandering around the house and acting so uncertain.
Pretending that I couldn’t see their feet beneath the curtain.
Lasting out the “seeking” stage as long as I could fake it.
The silence was so pleasurable, I was loathe to ‘find’ and break it.
Eventually they called out “Mummy, would you like a clue?”
“We’re hiding in the wardrobe at the bottom with your shoes.”
So now it’s me they’re looking for and I’ve hid myself so well,
It’s given me some alone time whilst they’re out there raising hell.
(I even left some biscuits on the table in the hall.
Hoping they’d be distracted and forget to look at all.)
But I haven’t got much longer, I can hear their patience dwindle.
So I quickly try to read just two more pages on my Kindle.
Their footsteps thunder nearer and in moments I’m discovered.
Slowly I uncurl myself and crawl out from the cupboard.
Then, before they run to hide again, I catch my little scions,
And suggest that next we play a lengthy game of sleeping lions.