The best

The best time I had as a child was playing hide-and-seek in my grandmother’s three story rooming house. With the basement and the front porch thrown in, the house was a treasure chest of hidden alcoves, narrow stairwells, obscure corners and roomy built-in cabinetry. You could move silently from floor to floor on the downhill route because you could slide down the banisters. If you held really still and didn’t breathe, searchers would pass right by your hiding place and not notice you there. Of course, you couldn’t go into rooms that were rented out to grandma’s roomers, but you could . . .


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

3 thoughts on “The best”

  1. My sisters and I used to talk about which cartoon character we would marry. Jo and Beth would argue over Aladdin and He-Man, and they would tell me that I couldn’t choose Wil CwacCwac as he didn’t speak English, and he was a duck. I can remember us sitting in our fort (once a garden shed, then lovingly filled with pictures and cushions to sit on) practicing how to write our married names…

  2. Every day when I arrive home, I am greeted ….no. “Greeted” just doesn’t do it justice. I am bowled over, ecstatically welcomed, loved as if I’d been gone forever, by someone who thinks I’m the best thing since peanut butter. He is so happy to see me his whole body shakes and quivers. Eager for kisses, he moans deleriously as he puts his paws on my shoulders…

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