It did not just happen, again! My workout pants, the only ones that don’t date to 1995, came out of the wash with the drawstring hiding. Yes, sucked down deep into the dark crevasse in the back of the waist. I have double knotted this string and it insists on disappearing every time it goes through the wash. This little game of hide-n-seek will cost me a frustrating fifteen minutes of rethreading. I don’t have those fifteen minutes today. Why does the string need to hide when I’m late for Pilates? Now I have to wear my Clinton era pants and worry about VPL (visable panty lines) all through class.

Some hiding is good, and healthy. I ran into a friend last week. “Where’ve you been hiding out?” I asked. “I’ve been laying low. I didn’t want a lot of people to know, but my dad died and just couldn’t bounce back.” She explained. I know the feeling - the need to be out of sight for a while - buried in your down-comforter-lined cave watching Regis and Kelly followed by a dose of Ellen. I get that need.

My favorite place to hide is a book store. Not like JP and Graham who play spy throughout the aisles of too-tall-to-see-a-kid bookshelves, but my own secret aisles. The list in my purse is calling me to pick up Merritt’s prescriptions and get a new door knob at Home Depot, but the memoir aisle is inviting me to hide for awhile. “Come and sit. Let us tell your our story,” the rows of paper ask.

After a half-hour or so, the list in my purse puts a guilt hex on me. So I leave and become a responsible mother again. But not before I buy a book or jot down a title. This is the beauty of hiding with books, you’re not truly alone. Yeah, Regis and Kelly can elicit a chuckle or make you gag, but they don’t have the staying power of a story.

As the holidays approach I have to be crafty when hiding the kids’ gifts. They know all the usual places and are too old for Santa. But I’m also going to make sure I have a place to hide. I’ve visited the library and have three books calling me disappear for awhile. Hiding out has a negative connotation; like a recluse withdrawn with her 17 cats. But when it reduces stress and takes you to a calm place, I can think of no better game to play. Happy hiding…I hope you find what you’re seeking.