“…98…99…100! Ready or not, here I come!”
My brother yelled out the warning, but he would never find me. I was small enough to fit in our laundry basket at home. It didn’t seem like a possible hiding spot, but I knew I could make it work.
And I did. I remember holding my breath as my brother continuously walked by. It was humid and stifling in that cramped space, yet I had to prove that the second half of the game was irrelevant when I was playing.
Hundred might be related to that counting chant, but it definitely couldn’t hide the issues it contained.