Poof!

When the boys were still drinking out of sippy cups for meals, we'd let them carry around their cups and drink even after they got down from the table, something I learned was a big no-no in parenting magazines but let them do it anyway because honestly, it wasn't worth the battle to me. However, they had a maddening habit with those cups.

They hid them.

They hid those stupid cups in a different place nearly every time, causing you to crawl around the room cursing for ten minutes until, like the Holy Grail, it was uncovered and there was much rejoicing (along with some incoherent rambling about "those %$&* cups). I never really figured out if they were intentionally trying to make us crazy, but I have a sneaking suspicion they were watching with amusement out of the corner of their eyes.

And that suspicion has been confirmed even more so with a new and much more deliberate game.

The object to hide these days is a doorknob cover, a childproofing item that was previously considered, well, childproof. Until Jake figured out he could squeeze the heck out of them until "the eggs hatches!" Well, isn't that great. But wait, there's more.... He "hatches" the doorknob covers while I'm not looking, and then in what I'm certain is part of their ultimate plan to send Mommy to the Crazy Place, they leave one half of the cover out as a tease for me, and then hide the other somewhere I'm sure not to find it.

The first few times they did this, I gave up after about 15 seconds of looking and simply put a brand new cover on. But I started to wonder where these covers were all going, so the other day I went on a hunt. I asked the boys to help me and politely obliged. At least, I thought they were helping me. What they were really doing, however, was simply playing along.

They knew where they were. This was a game.

"Boys, where did the doorknob covers go?"

"We hid them!" The truth was out. Finally, some honesty.

"Where did you hide them?"

"I can't tell you," replied Ben. "It's a secret hiding place."

"Poof!" interjected Jake with glee. "We made it disappear!"

"Poof!" agreed Ben.

I gave up at that point. My life motto anymore is pretty much "Whatever." They won.

But the next day, I decided that two (or three) could play this game. Tired of having them play with their bedtime "loveys" (little blankets) all over the house, I decided I would put them in a place where they wouldn't be accessed until bedtime. Somewhere they'd never look. Like my underwear drawer.

"Where you put our loveys?" Ben asked.

"Hmm... let me see... oh yes. A secret hiding place. Can't tell you," I replied. Maybe a little too smugly.

And the hide-the-hatched-egg game hasn't been played since.