A. ran away from home once. Years ago. One day he got so angry at his Mum, he went right to his room and packed his stuff in a suitcase. On the way out he said “I’m leaving. I’m going now.” before Mum gave him a sandwich which he accepted without a word.
Then he walked out the door, strolled all the way to the end of the street, past the park, sat on a bench, chowed down his lunch and came home.
He was five.
It’s so cute it made me all starry-eyed with laugh! A. said he still has that little green suitcase (the size of a lady’s handbag) at his parents’ old house somewhere. I’ve made a point to try and retrieve it at some stage. So when I’m mad at him I can go, Here, take your suitcase, pack it and leave. Come back after lunch. Only this time I won’t make you a sandwich, go to KFC. 😉