When I was little, I would hide under our huge dining room table and play with my Barbies or to read books or to take naps…stuff like that. It was my own little secure fortress, and no one was allowed in except the dog. At the time, we had a fawn-colored pug named Baxter, and he was the only living being I allowed in there with me. He’d curl up on a pillow and go to sleep most of the time, but he was still good company anyway. My mom never used lace tablecloths or anything like that, so I was pretty well hidden under there, which was great because it gave me some privacy, something I was lacking at the time. I wasn’t old enough to be in my room with the door closed, either during the day or at night, so I took advantage of any opportunity I could to give me at least a couple of hours of uninterrupted alone time.