My little runaway (a run, run, run, run, runaway...)

Julia told me that she was running away for the first time today. "I'm going away and I'm never, ever coming back," she announced angrily after some slight so small I couldn't even figure out what had set her off (please remind me to hide the silly penguin book that put this idea into her head in the first place).

Her foray out of the nest didn't last long. Less than 3 minutes later, she had to poop. She had to ask me to open Evan's baby gate so that she could get to the bathroom and then she needed me to wipe her tushy afterwards. Somehow, that seemed to change her mind about things because she happily agreed to come back into the family room with me after we'd washed our hands. The world is a cold and terrifying place, kid. There's no one to wipe your ass out there beyond these doors.

Deciding to run away is a rite of passage every little kid seems to go through and I always expected my daughter to do it, though possibly not quite this young. I still vividly remember the day I tried the runaway thing with my friend Erin Byrne. We were about 8 or 9 and we hid behind the woodpile in her backyard for what seemed like an eternity, though it couldn't have been more than half an hour or so. We thought we'd stay there indefinitely and live on the candy necklaces we'd gotten in birthday party favor bags earlier that day. It seemed like the perfect plan and everything was going swimmingly at first. But eventually, we both needed to pee and suddenly the lure of indoor plumbing was more appealing than making it on our own in the world. So we convinced ourselves that our poor parents must be out of their minds with worry and headed home. I'm pretty sure no one even realized we'd been gone.

It's probably not a good sign that my daughter is already plotting her escape from my home at the tender age of 3, but it cracks me up that bodily functions changed her mind the same as they did for me 24 years ago. If only it could still be so easy to reel her back when she hits the teenage years...