When I was growing up, I was a big fan of running away.

I was a big fan of running away when I was a kid. I had these great plans that would show my mom how much she would miss me and then would give me whatever I wanted. When I was 6 my mom wouldn’t take me to Burger King one night when I asked. I packed my backpack with my sister’s help. In went my underpants, in went my piggy bank, and in went a peanut butter sandwich. What else could you need to survive? I put my backpack in my little red wagon and started off down the driveway. My mom came out and asked me to stay. I really didn’t want to run away but I REALLY did want Burger King. My mom asked me if I would stay until she got home from work that night and we could talk about it then. I agreed through my tears and put away my wagon and unpacked my backpack.
When I was a teenager, again I decided the best course of action was to run away when I was upset with my mom about something. I packed up what I thought I would need and went and camped out underneath our back deck. My master (GENIUS) plan was that I would stay under the deck (totally undetected) and then when my mom and sister left for the day, I would go inside…use the bathroom, eat, do whatever I needed to. Needless to say, my genius plan didn’t even work for one night.


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