Mar 19, 2014

Lesson as a Newlywed: Running Away and Hot Dogs




Do you remember growing up as a kid and "running away" when you were mad at your parents? My running away usually consisted of hanging out in the hayloft or riding my bike down to the creek. I don't think my parents were ever too overly worried because the police where never called.

They knew I'd get hungry and be back for dinner.

I ran away last night.

Yep, as a grown, adult married woman.

My husband and I got in the the dumbest fight ever when he got home. I think it was about the fact he needed a hair cut mixed in with Netflix versus our cable subscription and what we were going to have for dinner. I really think it had nothing to do with any of those things. I think it was more me being mad at the world, trying to pick a fight. It's been a long cooped up winter.

"I just need to get out of here!"

"Where are you going to go?"

"I don't know, but not here!"

I jump in my vehicle and I pull out of the shop. He doesn't even come chasing after me. Now that I think about it, neither did my mom when I was a kid.



I decide to go on a back country road drive. I love to explore the countryside and look for old barns. I drive all around our neighborhood. Trying to get "lost," I kept ending up back at our road. Well this is lame. I can't even end up in another county. I watched the sun go down as I was driving along, wishing I had my camera with me.

Then, I got hungry and thirsty. I was craving Dairy Queen fries and a cheese wiener something fierce.

Turning my vehicle towards town, I realized I didn't have any money on me.

Cool. Who runs away without money? And a camera?

So, I had to go home first to get my debit card. I pull back into the shop. Grab my bag, noticing my phone was left behind as well. I thought about popping my head in the house and inviting my husband along to Dairy Queen but that would defeat the purpose of running away. Plus, I was suppose to be mad at him for no reason at all. Editor's Note: He did not go hungry last night. He was already slaving away at a frozen pizza when I had walked out.

I make the drive back into town checking my phone a few times to see if I had any missed calls. Nope. No one cares that I have ran away.

Pulling into Dairy Queen, feeling like a kid at Disney World for the first time, I order my running away meal, fries and cheese wiener with no bun. After 5 minutes of explaining I don't need a bun, I pull around all smiles. I haven't had fast food fries and a hot dog in forever. 

I grab my food, wanting to tell the gal at the window that I was in the middle of running away but she looked like someone that wouldn't care. I pull into a parking spot. I turn off my vehicle.  The seat backs up and I get situated with my food. All is nice and quiet. Deciding I want music to play, I turn on the accessory button which causes my seat to move forward again. Panicking and cursing, as my Dairy Queen to go box starts bending like an accordion between myself and the steering wheel, I decide that this running away thing wasn't so cool anymore. I re situated myself again, ate my food, enjoyed every bit of it and decided that it was time to go home.

I pull around to the trash can with those cool shoot thingies that reaches out to your vehicle. Tossing my finished to go box at it, I miss the shoot completely and the box lands on the ground.

I look up and notice the whole dining room is staring at me from inside so I drive off like a bat out of hell.

After a long drive of feeling guilty that a DQ employee will be picking my trash off the ground, I walk in the door. My husband turns around, all smiles.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeey, dear!!!!!!!!! How's it going?!?!"

Crap. The fact that I ran away has not phased him at all. I proceed to hang up my coat, bag, etc. completely ignoring his way-to-friendly greeting. He continues talking.

"The next time you leave to go somewhere, it would be nice to let me know where you're going. You failed to do so not once, but twice."

"You noticed I came back and left again?"

"Yep. Forget something?" *Followed by lots of laughter.*

Great. He thinks I am so lame right now.

I think as an adult, it's OK to be alone and run away every now and then for a few hours. Sometimes we just need to cool off and recollect ourselves. (Or in my case, realize that it's much cooler to be at home with your really awesome husband than finding yourself in a vehicle alone watching aimlessly as your to-go box crushes up against you.)

But if you're going to run away, at least let someone know where you're going. Even if they could care less. And take money with you. Or snacks. You'll get hungry.

4 comments:

  1. Kelly!! I'm fricking rolling with laughter here! I've so... been there. Thanks for lightening up my afternoon!

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  2. And now I desperately want to eat at Dairy Queen...one hour away. I want to run away from house projects! They are never-ending and time consuming! I wanted to run away today!

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  3. Hahaha, I love this so much. This sounds exactly like something I would do. And how my husband would react. And you aren't the only ones who get in stupid fights, I promise. Last big blowout fight we had was over closets. CLOSETS. Closets that don't even exist. That are make-believe in a hope to build addition to the house. Closets that have since been changed two more times from what we fought over. But the great thing about being married is getting to know deep down that even if one of you has to leave and cool of for a while you always know the other person will be there when it's over. :)

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  4. Oh my goodness, I'm laughing so hard! This is too good. I always threaten to run away when I'm having a bad day, but I've never done it (as a kid or adult). Hearing about it makes me think it's worth trying at least once... if only for the DQ :)

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