I know a good deal when I've got one, so to my knowledge, I never ran away from home. Sure, I had days where the chore I was asked to do seemed so patently unfair that I was very unhappy, and I recall one time spending 20 minutes writing a letter to my father outlining how unfair giving me a particular chore was (The chore only took 5 minutes), but I never bolted from home. You see three
|A typical note left when running away|
My brother Redface had the family record for running away. His attempts rivaled those of Steve McQueen in the Great Escape, and if I had to put a number to them, I'd say he tried about 7 times. Two of these attempts stick in my memory a little more than the others. The first was one evening when a police car pulled up to the curb in front of my house, and an officer got out to talk to
the family had tried to run away, and I'm not sure how serious the attempt was, but in the midst of running around the town with the track team, he came upon a Volkswagen Beetle (Punchbug!) idling at a curb and he jumped in and tried to drive it. He barely could see over the steering wheel and he put it into a ditch not too far from where he took it. He was a slave to his impulses often and this was a perfect example of how he would act first and then regret his actions later. He never really lost this wanderlust or idea of somewhere else being better that where he currently was. As adults we worked together at a pizza place and when I asked him what he did on the weekend before, he'd often reply, " I drove to Connecticut" or a place like that. He'd jump in his car, with no plan, no itinerary and just drive in a certain direction. He'd sleep in his car most times, but would return for his Monday shift. I'm not sure what my brother Redface was looking for out there, but I'm pretty sure he never found it. It's highly probable that I never ran way because of his examples, he never made it out, and it was never better when he came back from one of his escape attempts either.
My children's examples are far more tame than my brothers. Our daughter Molly attempted to run away one day. I'm sure it was in response to something egregiously done to her by her horrific
Dan's attempt, that I remember, went a little differently. We called his bluff too, but had the car keys ready, just in case. He had packed and was headed out. I remember a small rolling case of some sort that he took (did it have a bear on it?), but he never made it as far as Molly did. We