Pudgy Little Bastard Decides to Run Away

By now the tears streaming down his chubby face had created a damp circle around the shoulders where he rested his head.

His sobs slowed down and he gently raised his round little head for the first time since he ran to his bedroom sobbing an hour ago, feeling devastated by yet another parental dispute. Though this wasn’t a rare occurrence in the household, this time he felt especially helpless and tortured. In the realm of his mind, the realm of epic toy battles, imaginary Indian friends and music videos…he just could not grasp the kinds of conflicts he was forcefully involved in. All he saw was the twisted, hateful expressions and all he heard were the shouts and cries. There was no explanation.

“That’s it” he thought, wiping away the remainder of the tears from under his eyes and staring blankly ahead, “I’m going to run away, that’ll show them!”

Suddenly the same little face that had been tearing convulsively, with round cheeks that were by now bright red, turned into a steal Rambo expression. He had never felt so motivated and sure about anything in his life. He was going to do it and it was final.

His entire luggage options consisted of a tiny He-Man backpack and a Thomas the tank engine lunchbox, so he opened them up on his bed and began making the tough decisions of what to take with him for his new life on the road. He realized that he would need some clothes, and after much deliberating in front of the wardrobe he chose his favourite grey shorts, a Mario Brothers t-shirt and the red wool sweater he had received as a present from his grandmother, which he knew he would need when it got cold. For a second he pondered taking a change of underwear or socks. Then, as would be expected of a 7 year old, decided they weren’t that important. Even during his life with his family, which he now viewed as something of the past, he would wear the same underwear and socks for days until one of his parents wrestled them off him. And after all, space was limited in the He-Man backpack.

In a mission impossible scenario, he snuck down into the kitchen without anyone noticing, grabbed a few cookies and chocolate bars and ran upstairs. They just barely fit into the lunchbox.

And now would be the toughest decision that he was dreading reaching. He sat cross-legged on the floor for a few minutes, surveying the vast array of toys that he had lined up against the side of a wall. They sat there looking back at him, like convicts in a line-up; soldiers, heroes, villains, aliens, gremlins, witches, zombies, monsters, wrestlers, animals, teddy bears, etc.

With a heavy heart, he began picking out his most favourite. He-man obviously was the first, then skeletor, because it goes without saying that you need them both to stage a good battle. Following them was a G.I. Joe carrying a rifle, the cool tank he would ride in, and a small teddy that he had for years, which filled the dual role of comforting him at night as well as frequently being used as a giant possessed monster against He-Man, in the likes of the giant marshmallow man in Ghostbusters…

He stood with arms at his sides clutching his little love-handles, looking at the packed bags and wondering if there was anything else to take that could fit. As he stood there, minutes away of his planned escape, the door was suddenly pushed open. His mother poked her head around and said “Yalla come downstairs habiby, dinner’s ready” and immediately disappeared out again to go prepare the table.

He glanced at the bags, then at the door, where the smell of chicken and macaroni was seeping in. He took in a lungful of the great smell. He glanced at the bags. His empty stomach grumbled. He glanced at the bags. He smelt the chicken. He went downstairs to dinner and forgot about the whole thing.

Did you enjoy that boys and girls? Then subscribe!