I was about 7. I packed my tiny suitcase with my favorite green sweater and a string of beads and took off for my grandmother's house. When I reached the end of our street I stopped, because I wasn't allowed to cross the road.
So I headed back home and hid in the wellhouse. That'll show them! They'll look all over for me and they won't be able to find me. The wellhouse is dark and damp and full of creepy-crawlies. I peek out and see through the kitchen window that they're all sitting down for dinner......WITHOUT ME! Hmmmm, must think about this.
Finally, I head inside. Nobody indicates that they've noticed that I've been gone....for hours and hours and hours and hours (it was probably closer to 30 minutes). I'm crushed but I'm also hungry, so I get over it.
I never realized that my mother knew where I was all along.