Yesterday I called home to talk to the family. My daughter answered the phone and all I heard was "Alex AHHHH, bah-WAH-HAWAH, he AHHHHHHHH-AGH WAHH-AAAHHH, Owen UHN-HAAAAAAAA!!!" So like a good dad I immediately hung up and called my wife's cell phone. She filled me in on why I got hysterics. READ EXPLANATION HERE.
All I could do was laugh. I did. Unapologetically laughed while my wife told the story. He packed his bag walked out because he doesn't like spelling or math. He packed a jacket and his blanket. No food, no water, no cash, no pocket knife, no tent or sleeping bag. He's never been a boy scout so maybe I need to work on his preparation skills. What made me laugh was the image of him standing there in the backyard with his backpack looking out into the woods, the great unknown ahead of him, his trusty dog under his arm - a dog who would be gone at the first sign of a squirrel - wondering what the heck he had just committed to.
The question I have is - what possesses young kids to run away. Where do they think they will go?
The paradox of insular language
7 months ago
2 comments:
I am guessing not to the fort that he saw his dad running from with blood "ketchup" streaming down his face!
Yeah... although I love Owen and everything, the fact that you can completely disorient him with a sock over his head does not bode well for his "attack-dog-ness"!
Oh Alex... at least he grabbed a back pack! I think when I was little and tried to run away, I went straight for the hankerchief tied around a stick method. Not that prepared either. I think I did pack a string cheese though. Gotta have a string cheese.
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