Looking back through the years, I see many times I failed as a parent. The thought sends a twinge of guilt running through my mind. Would I do things different? Maybe, but at the time the decision was made, I must have thought it was right. Once in a while it paid off.
One day when my son was a little tyke, he was upset because of something I made him do or something I told him not to do. He announced he was going to run away from home. What is a mom to do? I will admit that my heart ached a bit, but I didn’t fuss at him or send him to his room to think about it. Instead, I decided to call his bluff. Then I thought, “what if it doesn’t work?” I took the chance.
It was in the middle of the afternoon, not the best time to run away. I told him to go get a button up shirt and a stick and I would help him pack for his journey. He complied. As I suggested items he would need, I proceeded to fix a peanut butter sandwich for his supper on the road. We packed a change of underwear, socks, a toy, and other necessities in his shirt and buttoned it up. As I tied the shirt tails to the long sleeves, and tied it to the stick, I asked him where he would sleep for the night and if he thought he would be warm enough. Then I asked what he would have for breakfast.
It was about time to start preparations for the evening meal. I told him what we were going to eat for supper and suggested he might want to wait until after supper to “run away.” He thought that was a good idea, too. It wasn’t long before he started playing with some of his toys. When it got dark, he climbed into his pajamas and slid into his bed. Soon he was sound asleep. I unpacked his shirt and put the items away.
That was that! As far as I can remember, he never said anything else about running away.
Miss you!!!…and love this story!!❤️❤️
Walking through the conundrum together is always the best way 😊. I’m kinda glad he stuck around!
That sounds as if it were something your Mom would have done. Smartness runs in that family for sure. Thanks for your memory
Wonderful story, Sheri!
Bruce ran away once. He left me a note saying he needed to get away from it all. He drew a picture of himself with huge tears streaming down his cheeks. My heart sank and guilt filled me. I ran outside calling his name. We had a big tree about two houses down. There he sat, in the top of that tree. I cried. I asked him to come home and he did. He never ran away again, but l, I have to admit it was agony! He was about 7 at the time.