Thank goodness some of us learn at a young age that running away is useless in the long scheme of things.
I ran away in Kindergarten which was housed in the basement of a stone church. I hatched the plan at snack time and stuffed my graham crackers in my pocket for emergency rations. After snack was recess and I hid inside a huge low juniper bush. I waited until recess was over and then set off. It was 5 miles to home and the one thing I remembered about how to get there was that the railroad track could be seen from the road all the way to and from my house. I was smart enough to know teachers once they realized I was missing would search the roadway so I headed for the tracks. Once on the tracks I headed in the direction of home like a bee headed toward a hive. I wasn’t even tired. The first 1/2 a mile was a piece of cake. No need to even pull the graham’s out. I was on a one track mission. The second 1/2 a mile I encountered a snag. – A tress train bridge high up over a river. Time to break out the crackers for moral support. I ate them all and managed to get 3/4 of the way across the bridge before the obvious dawned on me. Trains use tracks and there could be one coming at any minute. Maybe I miscalculated and the road was a better idea after all. So, I dropped down on my belly and wiggled and crawled my way back off the tress which was stupid since I had almost made it all the way across. Once back I got off the track and headed to the road and while climbing up the grassy lip to the roads edge saw my mother’s car coming. Living proof that mother’s have eyes in the back of their heads. She spotted me and came to a halt just feet away. Her face didn’t looked pleased and demanded an explanation. I blurted how there was nothing to learn at Kindergarten, I had better scissors and things to draw with at home (my father of course being an artist did keep these things around) and besides they made us sing stupid songs. Enough said. Something must have gotten through to her because with me inside she turned the car around and headed back home. Victory. I didn’t go back to Kindergarden but was told in no uncertain terms that the following year 1st grade was non negotiable. To my surprise there were things to learn like reading and writing in 1st grade but by mistake it must have been at the college level because I found it all quite difficult. Not until college did I learn I was dyslexic, but back then I was fairly certain if I had stuck out Kindergarden it would have made all the difference.
Kat's Salon 
Thank goodness some of us learn at a young age that running away is useless in the long scheme of things.
I ran away in Kindergarten which was housed in the basement of a stone church. I hatched the plan at snack time and stuffed my graham crackers in my pocket for emergency rations. After snack was recess and I hid inside a huge low juniper bush. I waited until recess was over and then set off. It was 5 miles to home and the one thing I remembered about how to get there was that the railroad track could be seen from the road all the way to and from my house. I was smart enough to know teachers once they realized I was missing would search the roadway so I headed for the tracks. Once on the tracks I headed in the direction of home like a bee headed toward a hive. I wasn’t even tired. The first 1/2 a mile was a piece of cake. No need to even pull the graham’s out. I was on a one track mission. The second 1/2 a mile I encountered a snag. – A tress train bridge high up over a river. Time to break out the crackers for moral support. I ate them all and managed to get 3/4 of the way across the bridge before the obvious dawned on me. Trains use tracks and there could be one coming at any minute. Maybe I miscalculated and the road was a better idea after all. So, I dropped down on my belly and wiggled and crawled my way back off the tress which was stupid since I had almost made it all the way across. Once back I got off the track and headed to the road and while climbing up the grassy lip to the roads edge saw my mother’s car coming. Living proof that mother’s have eyes in the back of their heads. She spotted me and came to a halt just feet away. Her face didn’t looked pleased and demanded an explanation. I blurted how there was nothing to learn at Kindergarten, I had better scissors and things to draw with at home (my father of course being an artist did keep these things around) and besides they made us sing stupid songs. Enough said. Something must have gotten through to her because with me inside she turned the car around and headed back home. Victory. I didn’t go back to Kindergarden but was told in no uncertain terms that the following year 1st grade was non negotiable. To my surprise there were things to learn like reading and writing in 1st grade but by mistake it must have been at the college level because I found it all quite difficult. Not until college did I learn I was dyslexic, but back then I was fairly certain if I had stuck out Kindergarden it would have made all the difference.