It has been a while since anyone has run away in our household, or rather from our household. Will made a habit of it as each new child entered our home. He'd pack his suitcase and head up the hill, but never really made it out of our sight. And he always returned for dinner.
Recently, we had a new runaway. She loaded up dresses, white shoes, and some books into a suitcase and headed out the door. However, she ran the "wrong" way, so we had to follow.
The rescue had all the best elements of adventure, for everyone involved. First, there was drama as she left and when we found her. She climbed up into bushes with her airport suitcase until she got stuck. Will gallantly stepped in with his "sword." June employed her naturally shrill voice. John was just happy to be there.
After the runaway settled under a tree, unpacked her stuff with her new assistants and hung it on a branch, we had a great time. Whereas just minutes before, there were fierce battles and fire-breathing tempers, the energy morphed into discovery, adventure and just laughing around:
- We poked sticks into a swamp,
- Will fell in a deep part of the creek chasing a catfish (?),
- We made a game called "throw the rope down the stream and watch it go like a snake,"
- We made up a game called "throw the clothes across the river,"
- We made cattail boats,
- We studied swallow nests under a bridge.
Every 30 minutes or so, the runaway would cry (with a smile) that she needed space. She'd pack up and head on down the bike path. The rest of us would just look at each other smiling and say, "Here we go."
Finally, we ended up in a rather industrial place where the bike path met an office building, a tunnel under a busy street, and stream filled with catails and big rocks and even crawdads. Jeff met us there for a picnic before we all headed home.
The truth is, following Clara really does often mean following the fun. By the end of the day, Will suggested that we do this every Friday. The only condition, however, is no running away.
