Our son ran away from home before he was five. I helped him pack a going away bag. He was gone for a few hours. He never told what irked him. Probably too many females in the house. After we moved to Diablo he had three of the cutest playmates across the street. And three of the naughtiest boys, you will ever want to meet. They and their new play mate committed arson. They raided peoples garages looking for a chicken in the freezers. They somehow knew which package contained a chicken and were not careful about returning the steaks and lamb-chops to the freezer. After finding what they were looking for they lit a fire in a culvert on the golf course and tried to barbecue their catch. Our son was in his indian suit as he came home, rushing into the house, through the living room, into his room. I had a few friends for afternoon coffee and they all laughed and said 'he's in a hurry'
And then we heard the fire engine. And then a thin whiff of smoke reached my nostrils. And then I knew. I ran into the Indian's room, grabbed his arm and ran to where the firemen were working. Everybody thought, How cute! The talking to of the four boys was much to easy and as far as I could see had no consequences for the three neighbors. Ours was forbidden to play with them and was campused for a week.