Monday, August 9, 2010

Vagabonds and runaways

When I was nine, I tried to run away from home on my bike.

I got as far as the neighboring subdivision, and then spent the next hour and a half riding around and hiding from my friends' moms who I was sure were looking for me and out to report me to my mom. I went home when it started getting dark and I got hungry, and hoped that they'd felt sorry that I'd been gone. No one really cared. I didn't even get in trouble.

Today I wondered why my mom was always so antsy about me crossing that intersection. It's a three-way stop on a T shaped corner on a two lane road.

No comments:

Post a Comment