On my first day of “big” school, I ran away.
I was only 4 (due to turn 5 in April) so I’m not sure whether I genuinely “ran away” or whether I thought big school finished at lunchtime, just as kinder had. Maybe I thought I’d swing by a hairdresser and get them to rid me of the god-awful bowl-cut. But this was the 70s and that would be betrayal.
I do have a very strong memory of walking up the hot tarred drive to the entrance of the school and trying to decide whether I should turn right or left, my new bought-for-school Clarks snagged in a storm of indecision. I don’t recall saying goodbye to anyone.
I don’t remember this, but it’s one of my mum’s favourite stories of my childhood (a close second to the time I got drunk at a Christening when I was 3). Apparently a friend of my mum’s spotted me heading down Toronto Esplanade, a short way from the school, and had stopped to take me back. I was a straightforward, strong-willed child (nothing’s really changed, for the record) and simply told her “No! I don’t talk to strangers!” No anxiety, no drama, just a statement of fact.
Our house was a decent kilometre away from the school and to get there, you had to cross a train line, a major road littered with traffic, up and down hills, past the marina where old salts hung out smoking endless pipes with a fishing line hung lazily off their arms.
I recollect being outraged when my mum pulled up beside me at the top of the very last hill, or as outraged as a 4 year old could muster (by all accounts, this was a fair amount). My young breast had been puffed out in pride that I’d made it practically all the way home and was swiftly deflated when the car door opened. I recollect my mum being outraged that the school didn’t realise I was missing until an hour after I’d left. No-one had seen me leave. No-one noticed there was a little person missing from the classroom.
The social side of school didn’t get much better for me. If I hadn’t meant to run away that day, I certainly considered it many days following. That first day prepared me for a life of wandering. Independence. Itchy feet.
A silver lining.
Linking up with My Mummy Daze for her “Stories of Me”.
Haha, fabulous. Can you imagine how frantic and distraught your mum would have been until she had you in her sites! One of my sons decided to play hide and seek with his Kindy teacher once and it had got to the point where they were about to call me and possibly the police when another teacher spotted his hiding place. Needless to say we had a very serious discussion that night about appropriate and inappropriate times to play hide and seek!
Oh I liked to keep her on her toes, that’s for sure! Kx
Now I’ve got that “She’s my little runaway” song in my head!
x
You’re already looking a little rebellious at 4!
Thanks for linking up with FYBF, love! Don’t forget to link back with the FYBF button!
I do have that “Don’t f*ck with me or I’ll smile” look, yes. Terror, maybe? Kx
Awesome story Kim! Love it. No wonder your mum loves re-telling it! What a brave little soul you were (are?) for taking the trip back home solo. And to think you didn’t take a wrong turn either! Seriously can’t believe the teachers took so long to call your mum! They must have been freaking out!! Thanks so much for linking up. I’m looking forward to reading your Love Story next week! Fi xxx
Thanks Fi! It’s a great idea – I do love me a writing challenge! I’m not convinced I was brave, but I certainly do, even now, have a keen sense of direction (although my husband may disagree). Kx
Wow you really were a wee legend from a young age! I tried that but we lived 40 minutes from the closest town and the sheep and cows didn’t get a shit that I was running away! I could also hear a car coming from a least 1km away so could hide in the nearest bush – great post!
So I can’t remember if I told you I have awarded you a Sunshine Award – can I blame the booze? You’ve probably got McMassive amounts of them collecting dust, but if you don’t check out my IBOT – Jan 29 post to see the details – I ADORE your blog hence why I nominated you! Em
Well, Em, once a legend, always a legend…
I didn’t know about the Sunshine award – thanks! I’ll do my best to respond to it in kind!
So glad you are enjoying the blog. We should have a massive mutual-appreciation-society sunshine-blowing session one time. I love your blog too – we seem to have v. similar styles. Kx
Such spirit! Well done, I considered running away many times as well. I wish I had of!
xx
I know! I still consider running away! Kx
Snaps to that bowl cut!
My brother was mad for running away from school. Endless stress for my Mum. X
That bowl cut was so hot. Clearly, I was running away from school to avoid all the kinder boys running after me in an ecstasy of bowl-o-philia. Kx