Be Very, Very Quiet. It’s Dorian Season.

I found a new place to hide in the little cabinet in the kitchen. It is just my size, and there isn’t much in there so I fit perfectly. I can climb right in when no one is looking, put my feet in and curl up, and take my hand to shut the door gently so that it won’t hurt me and no one can hear me shut it. I am safe in there and no one can find me. It is my special little thinking-hiding spot.

All of the other cabinets in the kitchen have these little lock things that only let the cabinet open a crack for me and I can’t get in (Daddy called this “baby proofing”) because there is stuff in those ones that I shouldn’t have. Daddy, I am a big, big girl now, so I’m not sure about that “baby” part, but I will let it go because you told me that I am not sure what is safe and what is not yet and you are keeping me from getting hurt. I guess you let that one little cabinet be a safe one, though, because there isn’t a lock on it. I found it, Daddy. I find everything.

I am an excellent hider. I think that you guys might just be on to me now because I have hidden there before, but the first time that I did it you all went all around the house calling my name because I was so fast and was “gone” in a second. That’s how little people work—we can be fast and sneaky when we want to be, especially when we are playing a game.

Everyone passed right by me saying “Dorian?” over and over, and after a few times I heard you guys get worried about me. Since you “baby proofed” the house with door handle locks and baby gates and you shut off the dangerous spots, I don’t see why there was any cause for worry, but if a little one gets quiet, I hear that sometimes it means that there is trouble too. I guess I follow you all on that one because of the time that I drew all over the fireplace and the table in permanent marker and the time that I took off all of my clothes in my crib. I was as quiet as a mouse those times, and I knew what I was doing when I didn’t make a peep.

Eventually I put a crack in the little door, and my giant brother Jonah found me first and called out to everyone to show them where I was. Mama scooped me up then—I think she may just worry more than any of the rest of us—and she hugged onto me really tightly even though she was laughing too.

Now I can hide in there and everyone can play the “where’s Dorian?” game with me, which is one of my very favorite games. Now you see me, now you don’t… and now you do, and you don’t, and you do, and you don’t again. If you can’t find me, don’t worry—I am just busy mind-adventuring in my thinking-hiding spot. In there, I can be in a plane or a car or a park or anywhere that I want to be. Bye-bye everyone, I’ll see you after I am done mind-adventuring.