Our mom had punished us for being bad,
And forced us to nap every day.
Then one day we kids had chanced to rebel,
And told her we’re running away.
I was nine, my brother Dick was just six,
Little Joe had only turned three.
We were sick of naps and momma’s harsh rules
Decided we wanted to be free.
We had been to a park with sandstone cliffs
That was five miles away, or so.
It had a number of Indian digs
That’s where we decided to go.
So off we went, when our food was all packed.
Tom, Dick, and Joe, three foolish knaves
3 PB&J and apples now sacked,
We headed to live in the caves.
I was in the lead, with Dick pulling Joe
On wagon, we went down the road.
We three fearless boys just trudging along
A baseball bat, and sack, our toad.
Traveled through town, and crossed several streets
Before momma started to worry.
She thought we were going around the block,
She started to search with a flurry.
Remembered I said, that we’d run away,
She sent Dad off to search by car.
Two panicked parents at last found their kids,
Amazed that they’d gotten so far.
Found trudging along on a busy road,
They had gotten several miles.
Dad was quite angry about our foray,
But Mom was all love, hugs and smiles.
This is a true story about my brothers and I.