When I was a kid, about the age of 11 I think, I ran away from home. Yeah, things were so bad at home that I decided to flee from my parental oppressors and make it on my own. At the ripe old age of 11 I had already figured the world out.
Things were bad for me at home. I was 11 years old and my parents made me go to bed at a reasonable time (no later than 9pm on a school night) and they wouldn’t let my tender eyes watch rated “R” movies. Well, I considered this to be draconian so I decided to do something about that.
When school got out on a Friday, I came home and prepared myself for my journey into enlightenment. I grabbed my little plastic typewriter and hammered out a letter to my parents listing my grievances. I don’t remember everything I wrote, but I do remember the bedtime issue and types of movies were in it. I informed them in this letter that I would return on Monday to see if my list of demands had been met, and if not, I would leave forever.
I grabbed some food to last me over the weekend. I took a half-loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter. It wasn’t enough, but as it turned out it was more than what I needed.
I said goodbye to my sister, walked out the door and headed to a field no more than 200 yards from our house. I sat and waited for my parents to get home from work.
After a little bit of sitting out in the field, I saw my parents arrive home and head into the house. Ha! They are going to be so sorry when they see my letter and realize that I’m not going to put up with their oppression anymore!
It was also at about this time that I realized it was starting to get a little chilly and I didn’t have a sleeping bag or even a blanket with me. Early spring was not the best time to be lightly dressed with the onset of evening happening. I started shivering and the day quickly progressed darker.
After a couple hours and a peanut butter sandwich, I started to rethink what I was doing. I was cold and longing to be back home. I gathered my meager belongings and headed back to the house.
Now, I may have been heading back home, but I was not looking forward to facing my parents after what I had just done. Honestly, I was a little scared. I knew that I would be somehow punished for this and I didn’t want that.
When I reached the front porch, it was dark outside. I stood there frozen for a little while, partially from the cold but mostly because I didn’t want to face the folks. For some reason I didn’t even want to just walk back inside. I quietly knocked on the door.
I heard footsteps coming towards me from inside. I heard the deadbolt move and the door swung open to reveal my dad. He looked at me smirking and stepped aside to let me in.
My parents had a talk with me about all this. I remember still how they tried to keep a straight face through it all, but I know they found the whole situation laughable. I had made bold demands, ran away from home only to get cold and return a few hours later. I later found out that they had seen me sitting in the field, so they knew where I was the whole time.
In the end, I still didn’t get to watch rated “R” movies nor did my bedtime get extended at that time. What I did get was a small dose of humility and a permanent image etched in my memory of my dad opening the door for me with a smirk on his face when he saw who was at the door.