The Remote Runner

It's story time!!

He was young. Chagrined by a brother who was 7 years older than him. He was tired. He wanted to watch television. He wanted to spend the next hour in bliss with his favorite cartoons. But no! His brother's intentions were also similar. Only, brother wanted to watch a match, some people running around to kick a ball though a net, against some other people, not some cartoon character prancing around in a make believe world. They fought. The two brothers were at each other's throats over their television time. As expected, our hero, the younger one lost. 

Note: Although I've made our hero's character seem pitiable, please do remember he's only eight and quite dumb naive. 

He decided to do something drastic. He hastily picked up a bag which his mom had used to lug in the groceries that morning (extra large, mind it!) and threw in some clothes. He shuffled around the house, making as much noise as possible. But no one gave him any attention. He gave up and moved on to write his goodbye-note.

Paper..? Now where could he find some paper? Okay.. Where could he find someone who could find him some paper? He rushed to the kitchen.

Him: Mom, I want some paper.

Mother: Ah, finally! I'm so proud of you! If you want any help with your homework,you let me know! 

Him: No no! Not for homework! 

Mother: Why do you want paper then?

Him: Oh, it's a secret. By the way, do you know how to write a goodbye note?

Mother: Ha ha ha no...! Here's some paper! 

Him: Thank you! Now, how do you spell "frustrated"? And "returning"? And "television"?

Mother: *writes it down* This is how!

Regardless to say, his mother was in tears. Of laughter! What was her eight year old up to?!

So our hero picked up his grocery bag. He lefts his note on the dining table. Shooting a last glare at his brother, he stalked out of the house. He anticipated that someone would come running behind him, begging him to stay. He anticipated the sound of footsteps, the sound of panting breaths. But nothing. 

As he shut the door behind him, he started having second thoughts. Suddenly, his brilliant  idea did not seem so appealing any more. But being a determined young man, he marched down the corridor, on his attempt to prove his point. 

As he stormed down the stairs, he began to think. He had made a decision which should have made his family members weep and wail! (At least according to him). But he hadn't got anything! The reaction was nil! He knew what it must be like to be those people who sell insurances at the mall. Working so hard and not receiving anything in return!

By the time he reached the gate, some of his steam had fizzled out. Nevertheless, he walked out, onto the street. By the time he reached the first turn, his stomach start turning somersaults. By the next turn, he heard a rumbling sound. And it was coming from inside him! His rebellious stomach had turned against him and was calling out for his mother's cooking. And as he tried to crush this rebellion, he found his main ally, his legs, joining forces with his stomach and there he was, tracing the path back home. Anyways, he assumed that he had been out long enough to receive an ostentatious welcome, and to gain the remote for at least an hour!

He was disappointed. Nothing had changed. He watched his brother still entranced by the television. His mother was still busy trying to get the the potatoes just the right brown. 

Fuming, he decided to stay in that very house, rather than to run away and give his brother unchallenged control over the remote. 

In the kitchen, his mother shook her head and smiled. At least, she had made it till her aunt's house.