The Day MLA Ran Away

So, for my 9th birthday I got a jean jacket. Not just any jean jacket, oh no - a Calvin Klein jean jacket. Yup, my very first designer piece. I was never really that into fashion as a kid. I would ordinarily just wear whatever my mom dressed me in with no complaints, and preferred my cutoffs and purple one-piece bathing suit to any other ridiculous, trendy thing she tried to put me in. But I coveted that Calvin Klein jean jacket for all of third grade, and that summer my wish was granted.

Now in 1996, Calvin Klein was a big deal (hello, Kate Moss). My mother made it clear that this was not a cheap jacket, and I was not to lose it or get it dirty. And this particular Calvin Klein jean jacket was amazing. It was the perfect shade of semi acid-washed late 90's denim. It had tons of pockets and a cool leather Calvin Klein patch on the inside. But the best part was the buttons. They were silver and shiny and loosely sewn on, so that when you ran to the bus stop or up the jungle gym steps, they jingled like bells. I was smitten.

I wore my jean jacket to the first day of fourth grade, even though it definitely wasn't jacket weather yet. I guarded that thing with my life and even made sure it was in the back of my cubby behind my backpack so that no one would see it and think to steal it. I wore my jean jacket to the second day of fourth grade too, and then the third, and then the fourth and fifth. And the more I wore it and got used to it, the fewer precautions I began to take.

One day we had finished all of our work. It was very nice out that day, and our teacher agreed to take us out for a short recess before the bell rang and we had to line up for our buses. I was wearing my carpenter jeans, an orange t shirt and, of course, THE JEAN JACKET. After ten minutes of running around the playground I was warm, and in a moment of complete indiscretion, cast my jean jacket to the side. The bell rang and I got on the bus, leaving my precious denim treasure behind in the dust.

As soon as the bus turned into my neighborhood, I realized what I had done, and immediately burst into tears. I got off the bus crying. My mother had said, and I believe these were her exact words, that she would "wring my neck" if anything happened to that jacket. I was in HUGE trouble. And worse, I might never see my beloved jean jacket again. Terrified of what my mother would do when she found out, I did what any logical 9-year-old would do: I ran away.

...to the edge of the subdivision. I actually got pretty far - a half-mile or so - when my mom pulled up in my stepfather's green Cadillac, extremely pregnant with my brother, and screaming at me, "What the HELL are you doing?! Are you crazy?! GET IN THE CAR!"

Sobbing, I confessed my motive. This probably angered my mother more than my running away in the first place. "You ran away because you LOST YOUR JEAN JACKET. YOUR NICE, NEW CALVIN KLEIN JEAN JACKET, which I specifically told you NOT TO LOSE. AND, AND, now the entire neighborhood probably thinks I BEAT YOU BECAUSE YOU WOULDN'T GO INTO YOUR OWN HOUSE AFTER LOSING A FUCKING JEAN JACKET! RAAHHHRRGG!" (like I said, she was pregnant. You should have seen her when we saw Titanic for the first time, hoo boy).

I cried a little bit more, went to school the next day and found my jean jacket in the lost-and-found.

I was a dramatic child.

And I still have the jean jacket. It doesn't fit, sadly.

THE END