Rachel and I went shopping the other night for Father's Day gifts for Daddy and Grandpa. I wrapped them after I put her to bed and then left Grandpa's gift on the dining room table with a card for her to sign. I told Drew to have her do that while I was at chorus Wednesday night.
When I got home from rehearsal, the gift was gone. And I mean GONE. Vanished, into thin air. Drew and I hunted all over the house for it, including tiptoeing into Rachel's room to see if I'd put it there for some reason. On the second go-around Drew looked into her room again -- and there it was, hidden behind her chair.
I got quite angry and went on a tirade before we went to bed. Because I realized that Rachel has gotten to the age where she can just take things and hide them, and I'll never know what happened. I have enough trouble keeping the various parts of my life organized; I don't want to have to constantly keep track of my things.
Luckily, Drew's cooler head prevailed. He had a talk with her yesterday morning while I was getting ready for work and impressed upon her the fact that she can't hide things "because you gave Mommy quite a scare." Turns out her intentions were the best ones -- she thought it was the gift for Daddy and she wanted to make sure it was a surprise.
She padded into the bathroom as I was finishing up my shower. "I'm sorry that I took the present," she said mournfully. I emphasized that she had given me quite a scare, and then I showed her the secret hiding place for Daddy's gift (in my closet, on top of my sweatshirts. And the card, which will be from her, is covered in glitter and I'm sure she will love to sign it).
So, bottom line: Dad, your gift is in the mail. And Drew, there is no way you're going to find out what your gift is from either of your girls. So don't even try to tickle us. We ain't telling.
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