*A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2015*
You crack yourself up. This week, you've introduced a new hide-and-go-seek game galled "Mama, don't find me." You say "Mama, don't fiiiiiiind meeeeeeeee!" before running off to secure a hiding place. It is endearing that your hiding places give you away so quickly: that giant lump underneath the covers, your shadow against the shower door, your toes peeking out underneath the curtain. I play along, saying "Where's Matteo? Is he under the bed?" to which you say "Nooooooo" followed by giggling. When I finally "find" you, you smile and jump around, pure excitement spreading across your face, before immediately asking me not to find you again.
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