hiding

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 i wiggled my toes
and father said —"look, dear,
i wonder if those

toes could be benny's?
there are ten of them, see?"
and they WERE so surprised to find
out it was me!

~by Dorothy Keeley Aldis

a poem i remember well from my childhood.