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Chutz
Veteran Member


Date Joined Jan 2005
Total Posts : 9090
   Posted 6/6/2009 10:50 PM (GMT -7)   
Good Sunday to you all...and I hope it's a pleasant anf cheerful one. I've been overrun with grandchildren today and tonight and I'm pooped. I love them but oh do I get tired. The littlest one, almost 10 months old, stayed here while mommy and daddy went to dinner and she was NOT a happy camper. She's at that age when she doesn't not want mom to get out of sight. I did feel sorry for her but little ones do get past these things. At one point she started crawling toward the back door as if she was going to leave...lol That started me thinking about a time when I was about 7-8 years old which is the inspiration for today's subject...

Once I ran away from home. Here's the story...

I had a 'regular' childhood. Lived in a small town and my best friend lived next door. Homes were usually on about an acre of land...some a bit more and some a bit less. We knew about everyone in our town and we lived on the north boundary so we had lots of woods to play in. One summer day my girlfriend and I had asked our parents for permission to do something...I think we wanted a ride to a local lake to swim, not quite sure now...lol... and we were turned down. We were so abuse..lmbo...at least we thought and decided we'd had enough. It was time to run away from home and show them! We decided we needed some supplies and all we could think of was food. So we each went to our own house and came back with the items that were on our list. That was mighty simple because all we wanted was a box of cold cereal, some milk, and utensils to eat is. We didn't have an final destination but our first hideout was in the ditch across the road. Gosh, it must have been at least 100' from my house.

So there we were in the ditch and decided we were getting mighty hungry from our long travels.Out came our rations and we each ate a bowl or two of Wheaties...yumm-o! Then we sat with full tummies and wondered what to do next. We were getting pretty bored but had no idea what fugitives did all day. It was nearing the dinner hour when I heard the door to my house open and mom's voice rang out..."Supper time! Where are you?" Again she called..."Supper time! Where are you?" We NEVER refused to answer our parents...ever! shocked If they called you answered...end of story. I started to panic and couldn't imagine what punishment I was in for because I didn't answer. It only too one or two more called and we gave up. Besides our rations were getting low and we might not have enough to make it til morning. So we popped out of the ditch and scurried back to my house, hid our leftover supplies and I went into the house while my best friend went across the field to her house. Our parents were none the wiser and we barely kept our fannies out of trouble....Whew...wasn't going to do that again!

It wasn't until many years later when I was thinking about our adventure that I realized our moms knew about it all along. My friend's mom always rang her triangular dinner bell when she was to go home and it never rang. My mom always called out the back door for me which was in the direction of where we played. This time she called out the front door, right across from where we were hiding in the ditch. They knew and were giving us the opportunity of coming home before our dads got into the fracas. What a couple of dunderheads...lmbo

I guess this got to be longer than I planned but the memories are fun. Thanks for indulging me. Has anyone else 'ran away from home'? Or maybe a friend or sibling tried. What's YOUR story...

Chutzie
Co-Moderator Fibromyalgia & Chronic Pain Forums
~~~
Fibromyalgia, Ulcerative Colitis, Insulin dependent diabetic, PTSD, dermatitis herpetiformus, osteoarthritis and a few other side dishes.
***************
Happiness is something to do, someone to love, and something to hope for."
(\__/)
(='.'=)
(")_(")


Dagger
Veteran Member


Date Joined Apr 2008
Total Posts : 1522
   Posted 6/6/2009 11:54 PM (GMT -7)   
I ran away when I was about 7 years old. I packed a suitcase with all of my books and headed off into the sunset. Actually, the books were too heavy so I dragged the suitcase around back and sat on the back porch reading for a few hours. When I got hungry, I went back home.

It was decades ago and my family still laughs about it.

When I moved across the country a few years ago, the moving van was half-full of books.

Mrs. Dani
Veteran Member


Date Joined Jun 2009
Total Posts : 2787
   Posted 6/7/2009 12:32 AM (GMT -7)   
 he he
That is a loaded question blush
 
    Yes I did. The first year or so was kinda scary sometimes and time seemed to go very slowly. When I became 16yrs old, I was in absolute shock for weeks. Why was I still here? I ventured to tell a few folks who I was by that time. These few that I confided in at the time, became important keys to my future later, but thats years later and another story all together. When I became 17 I had loop holes in that states laws that allowed me to work regular job. (Technically it read "Any *single* job over 7hrs per day... etc..). When it was a few months before I turned 18 I did go back home and visit. But it was odd and strained and many odd things happened. (story for another day perhaps LOL) I was also finally truthful to all those around me about who I was and where I came from. When I turned 18 I had little time to celebrate, there was so much to do! I took in all the world around me as me. :-)
 
*huggs*
dani
 
TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,  
And sorry I could not travel both  
And be one traveler, long I stood


edt
Veteran Member


Date Joined Dec 2008
Total Posts : 773
   Posted 6/7/2009 6:58 AM (GMT -7)   

I never attempted to run away, I was too scared of the consequences lol.  I spent many a week grounded for little stuff so I just knew something that big could mean a lifetime in my room.

XXOO
Patti


Chutz
Veteran Member


Date Joined Jan 2005
Total Posts : 9090
   Posted 6/7/2009 11:04 AM (GMT -7)   
Dani,

That's a powerful story you have begun to share. You sound like a very strong and determined person.

Bless your heart,
Chutzie

ps...for anyone who has never ran away from home, please share about some other rebellious adventure in your life.
Co-Moderator Fibromyalgia & Chronic Pain Forums
~~~
Fibromyalgia, Ulcerative Colitis, Insulin dependent diabetic, PTSD, dermatitis herpetiformus, osteoarthritis and a few other side dishes.
***************
Happiness is something to do, someone to love, and something to hope for."
(\__/)
(='.'=)
(")_(")


fatherjohn
Veteran Member


Date Joined Feb 2009
Total Posts : 999
   Posted 6/7/2009 12:34 PM (GMT -7)   
I could not wait to get out of the dwelling that was referred to as home. My parents did not like each other and it was spoken of often. I was the youngest of 4 and it was mentioned many times that when I was out of high school, they could get a divorce. I don't know why they did not just quit before that. I had a fight with my dad one day and he asked why I was living in his house? I responded that I did not want to and packed my things and moved out into my car. I used the bathroom of friends or at the school to get cleaned up and actually flunked high school but they took pitty on me and let me finish anyway. I later reconciled with my parents. First with my mother as she was the victim of a angry, grumpy disabled old man. I later reconciled with him and even now I have a greater respect for him even though we loved to spend time with each other before he died. He was a disabled veteran from WWII and endured Chronic Pain for many years. I had no idea what he went through until I was injuered and had a new view of what he went through. Life does have a way of working itself out.

modelmaker
Regular Member


Date Joined Feb 2009
Total Posts : 168
   Posted 6/7/2009 2:19 PM (GMT -7)   
I grew up in a household where we were doing just OK financially, not the typical well-to-do families of the 50s you saw on TV. I remember it was 1950 and my Dad came home with a brand new Oldsmobile! 1950 model right out of the showroom. Our first new car ever. He had parked it out on the street which was a slight incline. He was inside and I decided I would see what it felt like behind the wheel. I was 6 at the time. I was playing "driver" and decided to shift. I pulled it out of park and it started rolling backward toward and intersection. I panicked and slid across the seat to get out of the car. Just as I opened the door it caught on a telephone pole near the road. The car stopped but that brand new Olds had a door that was bent open at the hinges. I was frightened and afraid my Dad was going to go ballistic. I ran away from home. Actually it was just into a woods 2 blocks away but to me at 6 I felt I was running away forever.

Well my parents and brothers came looking for me. I guess they knew where to look because I wasn't away for more than an hour. They were surprisingly nice about the whole thing. Of course my older brother made life miserable for me. They brought me home and very little was said of this car. It was magically repaired and thereafter parked in the driveway. Turns out my Dad took the worst of the abuse from my Mom for being so stupid as to park in the street! At the tender age of 6 I had successfully dodged my first bullet.

Modelmaker
Degenerative disc disease since 1985, 4 back surgeries, fused from L2-S1, instrumentation. Being treated for chronic pain. Oxycodone 30 mg. IR. Candidate for SCS in the future.

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