The Big Top
All kids run away at least once. But usually just to the garage, not the circus.
Poor naive kid. Doesn't he know that if you're gonna run away, you shouldn't leave a trail behind? Or in this case, 12' of flexible train track.
When I was 9, my mom wouldn't let me go camping with my friends, so I ran away to the tool shed out back. After awhile, I got bored and went back inside.
You see, I didn't have 269 cute, colorful and fun pieces of circus animals, bridges, tunnels and more to play with. I had some old rags covered in axle grease and a couple garden hoes. So I lasted just under two hours.
I could tell that my mom had been worried sick, as demonstrated by how she was passed out on the couch with a copy of Better Homes and Gardens. I knew that if I had stayed even five minutes later, she would have called in the calvary to hunt me down.
Luckily, I don't have to do that with my kid. I know exactly where he is. I just followed the rumbling sounds of the motion-sensitive mountain tunnel and the battery-powered locomotive until I found him sleeping in the crawl space under the stairs, still clutching his circus tent cut-outs. Pssh. Amateur.