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Did you ever run away from home?

MaggieD

MaggieD

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I was about five, I think. I was so mad I told mom I was leaving. She helped me pack my things into a plastic bag and off I went. I walked about a half block, I Think. (Mom wouldn't have let me cross the street alone), and I started crying. I turned around to go home, and mom waved and met me half way. "Come on, let's have some ice cream," she said.

You?
 
Similar.

I wrapped a couple of slices of cold pizza in aluminum foil and announced that I was heading out to Oneonta to go live with my great grandmother. It turned out that, since I was only 7 or so, driving wasn't an option and Mama Bess didn't have a car to come pick me up. I don't recall getting ice cream as part of the subsequent negotiation.

On a parallel note, I also quit a job by tearing up my time card and walking out the back door. Before I got to my car I turned around and walked back in. When the chef asked why I'd changed my mind I told him that I was too broke to quit.:lol:
 
MaggieD said:
I was about five, I think. I was so mad I told mom I was leaving. She helped me pack my things into a plastic bag and off I went. I walked about a half block, I Think. (Mom wouldn't have let me cross the street alone), and I started crying. I turned around to go home, and mom waved and met me half way. "Come on, let's have some ice cream," she said.

You?
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Twice.

1. I was living in NYC (Harlem as a matter of fact), pawned off on my grandmother while my dad was stationed overseas in Turkey (Air Force). I think I was five years old too. I had a childish fit one day and told my grandmother I was going to run away. My grandma said go ahead. So I walked down the hall to the front door, went out into the hall (still felt safe), and then down the stairs three floors to the lobby (also safe). At each point I expected grandma to try to stop me. Nope...nothing. I think she didn't think I'd go outside to the street.

Well, I got up my courage, as any five-year old will, and went out on the stoop of the tenement. I looked up and there was my grandma in the window. She just looked at me so I started walking down the sidewalk towards Broadway. About half-way down I was in "unfamiliar territory" but I kept walking cuz I knew I could just walk back up to the stoop. When I got to Broadway I turned left and walk about 50 feet or so...and was "LOST!" A policeman saw me and came to help me and calmed me down. Then he helped me find my way back home.

2. Ran away from my dad and my "ugly stepmonster" and lived on the streets for a full summer when I was 16, out in Los Angeles. I learned about communal living after joining up with a group of street kids; how to beg for spare change, how to find a "Squat" (abandoned building/home with water and/or power still on), how to get a motel room and to sneak 8 or nine of us into it overnight. That was good for the occasional shower and cleaning clothes in the tub/sink. Got saved by my grandma who told an aunt who lived out there to find me and send me to NYC to stay with her and finish high school.

Why do you ask?
 
MaggieD said:
I was about five, I think. I was so mad I told mom I was leaving. She helped me pack my things into a plastic bag and off I went. I walked about a half block, I Think. (Mom wouldn't have let me cross the street alone), and I started crying. I turned around to go home, and mom waved and met me half way. "Come on, let's have some ice cream," she said.

You?
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You fell for the ice cream trick too? Clever bitches.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
 
MaggieD said:
I was about five, I think. I was so mad I told mom I was leaving. She helped me pack my things into a plastic bag and off I went. I walked about a half block, I Think. (Mom wouldn't have let me cross the street alone), and I started crying. I turned around to go home, and mom waved and met me half way. "Come on, let's have some ice cream," she said.

You?
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nope never did and when it came time to move out I still didn't want to, I loved living at home even as a young adult

apparently my older brother did frequently...my mum would pack his bag and he would move away to grandma's for the night
 
Lived on the streets of Boston from 1970-1973 after taking a bat to my prick wife beating father.

Moved to Maine with relatives after getting out of the youth correctional center for the 3rd time.

I was a street hooligan.
 
MaggieD said:
I was about five, I think. I was so mad I told mom I was leaving. She helped me pack my things into a plastic bag and off I went. I walked about a half block, I Think. (Mom wouldn't have let me cross the street alone), and I started crying. I turned around to go home, and mom waved and met me half way. "Come on, let's have some ice cream," she said.

You?
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No, my brothers and I knew that the mere suggestion of such would have resulted in a high grade ass beating.
 
AliHajiSheik said:
You fell for the ice cream trick too? Clever bitches.

:lamo:lamo

Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
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RetiredUSN said:
Lived on the streets of Boston from 1970-1973 after taking a bat to my prick wife beating father.

Moved to Maine with relatives after getting out of the youth correctional center for the 3rd time.

I was a street hooligan.
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I always thought hooligans were paratroopers. ;)
 
I never did, thought never even crossed my mind.
 
I skipped off for more than a day when I was a teenager - with a friend. I had no intentions of running away, i was just a horny teen that wasn't thinking about the consequences of coming home after I accidentally fell asleep at his house. Cops were sent after me and everything - which I evaded only because they happened to come by while my friend was away (for a few minutes), and I stayed very quiet inside the house.

yeah . . . they never fully forgave me for that one. My mom slept in my room for months afterward.
 
MaggieD said:
I was about five, I think. I was so mad I told mom I was leaving. She helped me pack my things into a plastic bag and off I went. I walked about a half block, I Think. (Mom wouldn't have let me cross the street alone), and I started crying. I turned around to go home, and mom waved and met me half way. "Come on, let's have some ice cream," she said.

You?
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Nah. But I almost did, when I got into a giant argument with my parents (mostly my mom).
 
MaggieD said:
I was about five, I think. I was so mad I told mom I was leaving. She helped me pack my things into a plastic bag and off I went. I walked about a half block, I Think. (Mom wouldn't have let me cross the street alone), and I started crying. I turned around to go home, and mom waved and met me half way. "Come on, let's have some ice cream," she said.

You?
Click to expand...

I was 4 or 5, my sister a year younger. We got pissed about some perceived slight(I do not think she remembers what it was about either) and decided we were running away. We shared a room, and we kicked out the screen in the windown, and started throwing our clothes out that window so we could get them easier when we got out of the house. We never made it past that point as mom walked in. It went poorly for us after that, for quite some time.
 
Aunt Spiker said:
I skipped off for more than a day when I was a teenager - with a friend. I had no intentions of running away, i was just a horny teen that wasn't thinking about the consequences of coming home after I accidentally fell asleep at his house. Cops were sent after me and everything - which I evaded only because they happened to come by while my friend was away (for a few minutes), and I stayed very quiet inside the house.

yeah . . . they never fully forgave me for that one. My mom slept in my room for months afterward.
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That happens. I went to a party with my manager at McDonald's and ended up at her house. At some point in the morning mom was pounding on the door to haul me out of there. I guess she called the store and threatened whoever was running the place to give her the address. It's now been 35 years since I've told her I was seeing anyone.:lamo
 
I suppose getting thrown out doesn't count.
 
MaggieD said:
I was about five, I think. I was so mad I told mom I was leaving. She helped me pack my things into a plastic bag and off I went. I walked about a half block, I Think. (Mom wouldn't have let me cross the street alone), and I started crying. I turned around to go home, and mom waved and met me half way. "Come on, let's have some ice cream," she said.

You?
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One time. I was 17. Never really looked back. Was told by my parents "at 18 you will be out of the house or you will be paying rent". I left a year early.

Wasn't till two decades later my mother told me if I had stayed home and gone to college they would have helped out.... A little late by then. ;)
 
Three times. Started when I was just into junior high. My folks used the "live in our house, follow our rules" routine. I argued that was a rock and a hard place deal. So I took off for the foothills. Only gone a month before they found me the first time. The second and third time I went to SF and by the time they found me I had a job and a place to hang my hat. We made a deal for high school - if I kept a B+ average I could have my own room in the garage and no curfew. Graduated HS early with a 3.8 average.

If that sounds like I won, I didn't really. I was a dick and have been apologizing to my folks ever since I turned 30.
 
I was a wild child. Around...8 or so years old, we had an argument about something, so I said I'm running away. Parents said fine, just be back in time dinner. I grabbed my fishing, tackle box, back with flint, and my dog, walked down to the river, and went to my cave, which was about a mile or so upstream of the mighty tiger river, in SC. It wasn't really a cave, just an overhang, but it tall, and deep. It was my place, been going to it ever since I found it. Caught a worm, put a bobber n the water, and caught a couple decent size blue gills, cleaned them, and had a fire going before my parents started calling me.

Being the smug little **** that I was, I didn't answer. And my overhang cave can only be seen from the river itself. If you didn't know it was there, you could walk right over me. Anyway, I let it go on till dark, and by then, I think they had me found anyway, the fire and cooked fish and all. They were pissed. I think my dad was impressed, but he tanned my ass anyway.


We never joked about running away again, lol.
 
clownboy said:
If that sounds like I won, I didn't really. I was a dick and have been apologizing to my folks ever since I turned 30.
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Getting old really ****s with your perspective, doesn't it? I swear, every time I thought my parents had ****ed me over somehow, when I got older, I realized that they had done me good.
 
Redress said:
Getting old really ****s with your perspective, doesn't it? I swear, every time I thought my parents had ****ed me over somehow, when I got older, I realized that they had done me good.
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Yeah. Can't tell you how many times when I was young I was righteously right only to find in a couple years how hurtfully wrong I was. I'm a little less quick to the mark these days.
 
MaggieD said:
I was about five, I think. I was so mad I told mom I was leaving. She helped me pack my things into a plastic bag and off I went. I walked about a half block, I Think. (Mom wouldn't have let me cross the street alone), and I started crying. I turned around to go home, and mom waved and met me half way. "Come on, let's have some ice cream," she said.

You?
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:) No, but I packed to do so... just didn't. I was roughly 6 or so.
 
MaggieD said:
I was about five, I think. I was so mad I told mom I was leaving. She helped me pack my things into a plastic bag and off I went. I walked about a half block, I Think. (Mom wouldn't have let me cross the street alone), and I started crying. I turned around to go home, and mom waved and met me half way. "Come on, let's have some ice cream," she said.

You?
Click to expand...

Didn't have to.
For my teenage years I had an absent father and a mom trying to be my friend.
I could get away with murder.
 
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