Not a great way to wake up

Jacob woke up at 6:20, violating house rules that no little boys are allowed out of bed before 6:30. When he fussed at me about going back to sleep, I brought him into bed with me, where we both snoozed until an almost unheard-of 8:00.

We got up then and plodded towards the kitchen to make coffee. I peeked in Isaac's room; his bed was empty. "Isaac! Where are you?" No answer. I peeked on the couch in the living room; it was empty, too. "Jacob," I said, "go downstairs and see if Isaac is watching TV with Daddy."

"Okay, Mommy." Step, step, step, step... "Mommy! Isaac is not down hee-err! Isaac is not down hee-err!"

I came downstairs to check. Sure enough, there is Daddy, there is Jakey. No Isaac. WHERE THE HOLY HECK IS ISAAC?

We all ran upstairs, Mommy and Daddy screaming for Isaac, Jakey screaming like a murder victim. Daddy blew past us all, racing around the house and searching all possible nooks and crannies. All the doors were locked and deadbolted. Where could Isaac be?

I ran into the living room and suddenly there was Isaac, lazily reclined on the couch, craning his neck out to see what was going on. He had been behind a throw pillow, curled up just tight enough so as to not register with my pre-caffeine vision. Phew. But why, WHY, I asked, didn't he answer when we were calling for him.

"I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to find me."

Thanks, thanks for that. I didn't need as much coffee as usual to perk up this morning.