I wasn’t the only one. Countless children through the centuries had tried it and failed. I was ignorant of such odds.
As I recall, my mother had refused to grant some childish request, and I was as furious as a 4-year-old can be. But instead of throwing a useless tantrum, I stomped purposefully to my room and began to plan my escape from totalitarianism. Into a bag went several items of clothing, a harmonica and a stuffed animal.
“Where are you going?” asked my mother, who had quietly been watching from the doorway.