I'm hiding, I'm hiding, and no one knows where,
For all they can see is my toes, and my hair.
And I just heard my Father say to my Mother,
"But darling, he must be somewhere or other."
"Have you looked in the inkwell?", and Mother said, "Where?"
"In the inkwell.", said Father, but I was not there.
Then, "Wait!" cried my Mother-
"I think that I see him under the carpet.", but it was not me.
"Inside the mirror's a pretty good place."
Said Father, and looked, but saw only his face.
"We've hunted,"sighed Mother, "as hard as we could,
And I AM so afraid that we've lost him for good!"
Then I laughed out aloud, and wriggled my toes,
And Father said, "Look Dear, I wonder if those toes could be *Beau's.
There are ten of them. See?"
And they were so surprised to find out it was ME!
♥This was a poem in an Child Craft book that was handed down to me from my Mother, who recieved them from her Mother. This stuck out in my memory once I took this photo of my son, "hiding" beneath a stool. I added his name to it. It's such a cute poem!♥
