Runaways and Vagabonds 2

Apparently, according to my mother, she doesn't even remember the occasion listed in my last post - it doesn't hold a candle to the time when I was seven or eight and went on an adventure with the pool cleaner's kids from next door.

I remember this much about that:

• It was a Friday afternoon. I was in my friday clothes from Jewish day school.
• I was wearing these horrible too-big-for-me blue suede Sketchers

And that's about all I remember. I recall sneaking out the back gate and going down the vacant lot to the river. I remember sneaking around the back fence and across the open back part of the yard that faced the river to meet up with these kids. I remember we trooped across at least five or six yards before we got caught.

I do not remember the aftermath, which my mother describes as this:

"I chewed you out so hard! I told you were never allowed to leave the backyard again! But then that night when I was tucking you in you said it was the most fun you'd ever had in your life and I felt bad, that my daughter was so sheltered that the most fun she'd ever had was going five houses down and I wouldn't even let her leave the back yard, so after that I stopped trying to pen me in."

So apparently no one cares about me running away on my bike. (Mom says it doesn't even count as running away, because I didn't pack a bag and didn't get very far.)

Not as adventurous as she thinks she is,

Leez.