My Little Runaway

Isaac ran away from home this afternoon. In classic fashion, he made himself this bundle in which to carry all his worldly goods:

This contained roughly $23.00 in small bills and change, a “pamplemousse” (grapefruit) Le Croix sparkling water, and a rice cake. He slung this over his shoulder and marched out towards the woods. I suggested to Elias that he keep watch out the window to see where Isaac was headed, and soon enough Elias was trotting along behind him.

I waited a while and then followed, bringing along my morel hunting bag as a beard. As I approached the woods, I saw a little head duck down behind something. I could hear Elias coughing from time to time, and so kept a general sense of where they were. But I kept out of sight, and did attempt to find some morels while I was down there. (Morel season seems to be over; poison ivy season has begun.) After a while I got bored and went up to the play structure to sit and wait them out. Thunder rumbled a bit in the distance and I figured if it started to rain they would come home.

After a while I heard their voices. They came from a different direction than I expected, both with impressive walking sticks. They made a very bucolic sight– the grass is tall and brilliantly green. Elias wore jeans and a striped t-shirt and was bare foot, looking something like a young Tom Sawyer. They didn’t see me, and as they passed I got to overhear their conversation.  Isaac said, “In four years, when you’re eight, maybe I’ll get enough money and I’ll buy us tickets to Australia!” Elias said, “Yessss!”

I revealed myself and we sat around on the play structure for a while discussing what had happened. Isaac gloated, “You learned your lesson this time!” and “You really met your match!” so proud was he of his big adventure. I countered that I hoped he learned HIS lesson. But we let it drop. Both of us, I think, were tired of fighting.

So what happened?

Well, we’ve been home sick a couple days. I went to the doctor on Tuesday for my death rattle and brutal nighttime cough, and was diagnosed with “asthmatic bronchitis.” I’ve never had asthma before, but I admitted to stealing lots of the boys’ asthma medication in recent weeks and that it was helping me a lot. The doctor said my lower airway was “all torn up” from severe coughing and he could see why a bronchial dilator would help. I got three prescriptions out of the deal. So when the boys both woke up with sore throats and coughs on Wednesday, I let them stay home. Thursday, same thing. But today I felt that they were in the mode of lingering cough, but not still sick enough to stay home. They resisted vigorously, not wanting to go to school one bit. Finally I suggested that if they could get ready to go and in the car nicely and on time, we would go get ice cream after school.

I know, food as a reward. But it worked beautifully and my morning was much less stressful as a result! So after school, we were all geared up for the ice cream stop. However, the very minute he got into the car, Isaac picked a fight about where we were going to go. He got enraged to the point of speechlessness. Then I pointed out to him that this is the wrong reaction when you’re being offered a treat. (and it’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation.) When you’re being offered a treat, you say “Great! Thanks!” and that’s it. Be happy, be excited, and appreciate the treat. That’s the etiquette. You don’t a) whine because it’s not the right treat; b) try to haggle it into a bigger treat; c) try to control the details of the treat; or d) act all irritated and bitter when you get the original treat you were offered instead of the more awesome one you were trying to wring out of the deal.

His rotten behavior sucks all the joy out of treats, and transforms a fun outing into an ordeal. It’s the hallmark of the spoiled brat and something had to be done. I cancelled Isaac’s ice cream. But Elias was innocent, and so he still got his. Yes– that’s right! Reader, Elias got ice cream, while Isaac sat in the car and sulked in the rain. (The car was six feet from the ice cream shop.) How’s nothing sound, kiddo? Is nothing good for you? This is what happens when you unleash the Tsumommy!

When we got back into the car, Isaac had removed the cover from the speaker of the car stereo. When we got home, he locked me out of the house briefly. So suffice it to say we were still pretty pissed at each other. At that point, he had no option but to set out to live in the wild. “Bye,” I said without remorse as he left. “It’s been nice having you for a son.”

And so he disappeared down the hill with his survival bundle and his little brother jogging to keep up. I have a feeling this will not be the last time in his childhood he feels forced to take such decisive action to make his point. Same goes for me, my friend.

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