When I was a kid and my dad pissed me off, I would threaten him that one day I was going to run away and never come back. One morning I woke up to my suitcase packed with some of my clothes, my teddy and a packed lunch, along with a note from my dad telling me that he loves me & to stay out of trees. I stomped my feet around my room, grabbed the suitcase and proceeded to walk to my playground (which was in a tree). Knowing that it was mango season & given my monkey-like skills, I figured it would be easy to survive on the streets for a while or at least be able to feed myself. There I was, 6 years old being a one-woman wolf pack with my hello kitty lunch box, dragging my suitcase down the street (and trying to figure out how to get it into the sky), determined to run away. Mind you, my dad was trailing behind me, but at that moment I felt rebellious. I felt like the little badass girl in the image above, and I could taste sweet freedom and the world at my fingertips. Well, sort of. A couple of my fingers had gone a bit numb since my suitcase was intentionally packed with what felt like rocks.
Needless to say, after about three hours of being bored by myself and eating my entire lunch, I decided this whole one-woman wolf pack would only be cool if I could play Zelda. And Zelda was unfortunately back home. So I went back to the place I vowed to run away from.
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