When I was little I once threatened to run away. I don’t remember what offense my parents committed to send me packing, but I was determined to be on my way. Anyplace seemed better than home.
I grabbed one of my parents suitcases and packed it with everything that meant something to me. In elementary school, who knows what that consisted of. Probably one change of clothes, a pile of books and some fake jewelry. But I am sure I packed with one thought in my head. I’LL SHOW THEM.
In the house we lived in at the time, my bedroom was in the basement. I can still distinctly remember hauling this old school ridiculously heavy suitcase up the flight of stairs ready to make my escape. I had two choices. Sneak out the back door or walk out the front door passing right by my parents who were sitting in the living room.
Never one to miss a moment to make a dramatic impression (thank goodness I outgrew that……), I headed straight for the front door. I don’t remember what my mom was doing, but I will never forget my dad.
He barely looked up from whatever he was reading, but glanced over and told me I would not be leaving with his suitcase. All the air in my puffed up drama balloon immediately went out. I protested, threw a tantrum, stomped my feet. But ultimately I retreated downstairs to continue my tantrum in my room.
My parents came down, told me they loved me and that I shouldn’t run away. And whatever caused me to want to run, but it was clearly resolved and put out of my aged mind. And no matter what happened, parents who love me and a warm bed should always win.
I read someone’s FB status today about one of her kids threatening to run away and this memory came back to me. My kids haven’t yet threatened to run yet, but I am sure my time is coming at one point. All I can do until then is my best to provide a home they never want to leave. Well, not EVER. Someday I want my bathroom back.
Did you ever try and run away when you were younger?