I found this letter that I had written my Mom when I was little. I'm so glad she saved it. She had sent my little brother and I to our room, and together we came up with this ingenious plan to make her sorry.
We each took our pillow and blanket and hid in our closet, watching through a crack for hours, waiting for the moment when she would find our letter, fall to her knees and burst into tears of regret. We planned to live in our closet and sneak out "every other day" to get the food they'd leave for us. It was brilliant.Mom came in, read our letter, and opened the closet door. And not a moment too soon. We were already sick of each other and our new, dark and stuffy home. Disappointed our plan had failed but relieved to be out, I was baffled at how, after reading our well planned letter, she wasn't in hysterics searching the neighborhood for us.
As I read this letter it made me laugh and recall fond memories of my little brother and our childhood. When I showed it to Luke he thought it was funny at first, but then said,
"That's kinda sad."
"What, you never tried to run away from home?"
"No... never."
We had very different childhoods. But I wouldn't trade all the dysfunction of mine for any one of his summer-long family road trips, sweating in a hot, maroon Astro van.
