My favorite spots, or maybe just my least productive ones.

As a kid I would curl up with my book on the kitchen floor by the sink. It was warm there and no one could see me because of the bar. I would spend hours there reading with the heater blowing on me through the vent. I think it was my insecurities that made me do it. If nobody can find you, nobody can yell at you, or make you go do chores. Plus it was nice to have a "hiding place" that I wouldn't get in trouble for being in. If mom was looking for me I could finish the page I was on and then stand up. She would jump and ask me how long I have been down there for. Just a little while (lie, the real answer was since the last meal got cleaned up, so a few hours). She would look at me like I was crazy. Why don't you read on the couch?

It was like my own private cave. The book help, too, letting me escape my own life and pretend I was someone else, someone more interesting, more in control. I realize that I have wasted a lot of my time daydreaming while reading books so I didn't have to deal with my life. If I had (or even would) just taken the time I daydream to get control of my life maybe I wouldn't be so insecure and overwhelmed. Often, I still feel like that young teenager that wishes I was someone else, someone more interesting, someone in control.

I still find that my favorite spots are hiding spots, most often for different reasons, though on occasion not. Now my favorite spots are out on my porch in the early mornings with my scriptures, or my bedroom, when it's clean, laying on the bed talking and joking around with Jared. When my hard times hit, I still go to the floor but in the bathroom now because my kids are much better seekers and more persistent then my mom and sisters were. Thank goodness for doors with locks.