Runaway Bunny

On Saturday, Olivia ran away from home.

There was no dramatic suitcase packing, just tears over what I think must be Ava Overload—Ava’s music program, Ava’s play date, Ava’s upcoming birthday—the list just must go on and on in Livie’s little head.

And so, frustrated with my inability to pull off a no-notice play date with a friend that lives in Kansas City, Olivia proclaimed:

“I don’t like YOU; I don’t like DAD; I don’t like AVA; I don’t like this HOUSE; I don’t like this FAMILY; and I DON’T LIKE YOUR SPARKLY BRACELET.”

I listened calmly until she got to the part about the bracelet, where I just had to call her out: “WHAT?! You LOVE this bracelet. If you stay, you can wear it.”

Olivia crossed her arms and said she was most definitely running away from home. I probably found a bit too much humor in the situation, but I tried to mask it. I told her how much we’d all miss her if she left. I reminded her how much we loved her. Nothing seemed to be working, and so I asked if she’d miss us. (“NO.”) I asked if she’d miss the cat. She paused, sobbed again and said, “I DONT’ WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE CAT.”

And, with that, while Ava and I watched with amused expressions, Olivia opened the door and headed outside. I told her I wanted a photo to remember her by, and so she waited just a moment before making her way down the sidewalk.

I continued to ask her to come back, but in addition to being dramatic, this one is also rather stubborn. I decided to give her some space and let her own her decision. As I watched her walk away, it occurred me to that when Ava acted like this, we purchased books on parenting and then actually read them. Now, we just laugh and take photos. Despite being the eldest myself, I suppose I can sympathize.

Olivia made her way up the neighbor’s driveway, still sobbing, though apparently not regretful of her decision. I don’t really know what made her think the neighbors would take in a shrieking four year old, but as it turns out, we didn’t need to worry.

At that moment, Bryan flung open the front door to find me and Ava in our driveway, and Olivia crying one house over. He bellowed, “What’s going on here?!” and covered the length of the lawn in about three steps. He scooped up Olivia, and before she even knew what was happening, she was back in her own house. Happily, that’s where she’s stayed since.

5 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Rebecca's Mom on March 20, 2012 at 9:58 am

    This is so sad! My first panic thought was: Seriously! Don’t call this one out!!!

    Then I read: ‘Dramatic.’ ‘Stubborn.’

    You so have this coming, Rebecca!

    Thank you, Bryan, for bringing Olivia home!

  2. Posted by Karyl on March 20, 2012 at 5:02 pm

    Funny you should say that, Deb- when I used to call my Mom and complain about issues with the kids, she always said that is just what I deserved – she had no sympathy for me whatsoever!

    Aside from that – I love the photos – Olivia stomping, I presume down the drive, but looking back to make sure someone was looking at her. I also laugh at Bryan’s reaction – he is so like his Dad – was he red-faced by any chance?

  3. Posted by Gramma Great on March 20, 2012 at 7:49 pm

    I think Olivia just needs some “gramma time.” We’ll all be able to help out with that!

  4. Posted by Laugh at Jessie on March 21, 2012 at 11:30 pm

    I ran away once when Jason was babysitting. I packed up my Snoopy tote bag and said I was out of there. Jason let me get about 10 feet down the driveway when he grabbed me and hauled me back to the house. He was laughing like crazy and I was really PO’d. Then he made me play Sorry and won every game. The night ended with him saying, “See Snort, if you ran away, I wouldn’t have been able to show you how superior I am.” Until I read this post, I had forgotten all about my run away attempt and the terrible nickname of Snort.

  5. Posted by Rebecca on March 22, 2012 at 9:01 am

    I was feeling really sorry for you, Jess, but when I got to the part where Jason called your “Snort,” I laughed out loud!

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