I don't really remember this. I was three years old. Mother told me I got angry with her about which dress I would wear that day. I told her I would run away. She said,"I will help you pack."
She wrapped a pair of socks and a pair of panties in a bandana and gave it to me at the front door. I went out for a few minutes, then knocked on the door and asked for my baby doll. I took the baby doll and walked a few feet up the street. I came back and knocked on the door again. I asked for my little wicker chair. I had my baby doll under the arm holding the bandana and I drug my little wicker chair with the other hand. I would go a few feet, then sit in my chair, rock my baby doll and cry for a few minutes, then I would walk a few more feet and sit in my chair again. I made it almost half way across the front of our lot when I drug my chair back to the front door. I told Mama I decided I didn't want to run away so she let me back in the house and unpacked my bandana!
Mother always had a unique way of handling the problems I presented her with. She was always special as are all my memories of her.