I didn’t know he lived with me.

I had no idea he was in my house. I never saw him, not even when I walked right past him. That’s how well he hid from me. Incredible, right? I mean, how can someone NOT see the strange man in her living room? Let me show you.

First, some backstory. I live in Delaware, the second smallest state in America. Living in a small state is terrifying. If you make a mistake, your blunder follows you everywhere. All of your acquaintances will tell their friends, who will remember that you’re the one who yelled at a prominent lawyer during a high school lacrosse game.

Because I’m embarrassed by all my blunders, I leave Delaware as often as possible. One of my trips took me to Wyoming, which is the 9th largest state and 2,000 miles from home. No one in Jackson Hole knew that I hiccup when I yell at prominent lawyers. The anonymity was fantastic! So were the views. I took this picture of the Teton Mountains while we rafted along the Snake River, right before my nephew fell into the water. (He’s fine.)

This picture hangs over our fireplace. Every time I gaze at it, I remember that wonderful trip. I assumed that my kids liked to look at the picture, too.

WRONG. My daughter sees a man when she looks at the mountains.