Since the main topic this week is focused on movies and the Oscars, I thought about an unfortunate event that I have been waiting to share.

To start off this bad boy, I need to first explain that one of my all time favorite movies ever is “Toy Story”. I was so obsessed with the movie when I was little that I became the girl version of Andy and had all of the action figures myself.

On my birthdays I would get random “Toy Story” characters. I can’t even begin to tell you how many Woody, Buzz and Jessie toys I had. Of course, they were my favorite. I will say that I changed it up a bit and had Woody with Jessie, because I thought that always made more sense than Bo Peep.

Anyway, when I was little, I threw tantrums like any other 4-year-old girl. Most of the time, it was me being angry at one or all of my sisters. Usually I would just give them the silent treatment, run to the treehouse, and lock them out by putting a makeshift door on the floor of the top loft area. After a few minutes, I would get bored and forgive them so they would play with me.

This one time, my mom and dad were both at work, so my little sister, Kylie, and I were being babysat by my two older sisters, Leisha and Danielle. I don’t exactly remember why I got in trouble, but I do remember being put in timeout. I was so mad that I decided enough was enough. I was going to leave and go where I couldn’t get in trouble.

I was running away.

So I ran upstairs to my bedroom, got my “Toy Story” suitcase that was already filled with “Toy Story” toys, and stuffed socks and underwear inside. I was only thinking of the necessities of course. I was going to take Kylie with me, who was only about 2 at the time, but Danielle took her and told me no.

My sisters didn’t believe I would actually run away, so they just let me go. At the time, we lived on a fairly busy country road outside of Little River, and we were all told never to set foot on that road. So when I stomped up to the end of our horseshoe driveway, I knew full well I would be breaking a huge rule set for my safety. Right when I was about to take that dangerous step, my mom comes pulling into our driveway. Talk about good timing!

She looked at me with a horrified expression that I will never forget. I remember her yelling at me to get back to the house, so I did. I never thought twice about doing it again.

On the bright side, I definitely didn’t try running away again. I also stopped overreacting so badly to my sisters when they babysat me and accepted my timeouts because most of the time I probably deserved them.

Brenna Eller

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