When I was four years old, I ran away from home.  I can’t quite recall why.  It may have been due to the spanking I received when my Mom thought I stuck my tongue out at her when I really stuck it out at a spider.  Mom’s uncle, Unk, was visiting us.

I loaded my dolls and my books into my doll carriage and moved into the garage.

Dad arrived home and came to see me in the garage.  He quietly explained that although the garage was detached from the house, it was still on their property and if I really wanted to run away from home, I would have to move totally off the property.  He thought he’d convinced me to come back into the house.

I loaded my dolls and my books into my doll carriage and proceeded to move across the street to my friend’s house.  Dad watched me cross our quiet street.

Years later I learned that Mom, Dad and Unk figured I’d come home soon.  When I didn’t, Unk suggested that if they, rather loudly, got into the car and slowly backed down the driveway, I would show up.  Nope.  That didn’t work. They drove around the block but still no sign of me.  Dad finally had to come to my friend’s house to get me.

That was one of many of battles of wills. All of us – Mom, Dad and me – were born under the sign of Taurus, the Bull.