Running To and Fro

So last night I went to dinner with my family. I had the world's greatest chicken wings (5x better than capital's). So on the way back to Uncle Tony's garage my father stopped me with his recollection. "Renee," my father begins, "do you remember the time you were about 4 or 5 years old? We were walking up this hill and you decided to run across a street in front of a firetruck that was on it's way." This provoked my mother to continue on about the handful if not numerous times I always disobeyed them, snuck off, ran away, and hid. My mother remembered the most horrific incident when we went to Sea World. I wanted to go to the Splash Zone but she wouldn't let me. So i snuck off and didn't return until dark, which was 4 or 5 hours later. My only answer to all of these stories was, "I was only a kid, I didn't know any better." But now, I begin to wonder. Did I really know better? Don't children usually want to be close to their guardians? I wonder, where did I run to? Why did I always want to get away and just hide forever until someone came looking for me? Most importantly, why did I always come back? I probably realized that I couldn't get along by myself. I needed my parents and family one way or another. But if I really wanted to run away, which I did a myriad of times, why did I come back?Anyway, presently, it's difficult to admit the fact that I've been trying to get away all my life. I know the firetruck incident was not the first nor the last time I wanted to break away. The question is why? I had a good life, good parents. I was settled and spoiled. I was fed, I was taken care of. Why would anyone in their right mind want to escape that? I was indeed, a mischievious child. No wonder why my mother has high blood pressure. Imagine the hell i put her through. Still. Still at heart, I am an ungrateful child.