July last year
Cousin Michael and I were walking toward his car parked in a laneway in a small park with the main highway, which was being resurfaced at the time about 30 yards across the park behind us. He was holding the hand of his four year old son Mark. The car was maybe 15 paces away. There was a large garden bed full of high shrubs just on the kid's right and we were nearly past it. Michael let go of Mark to fish the car keys out of his pocket.

The little bugger cleared off. One moment he was there, the next he must have been behind the garden bed and heading back the way we had come as hard as he could go. At first we could not see him and didn't know which way he had gone.

By the time we caught up with him he must have been nearly 100 yards away and had been grabbed by one of the road workers to stop him from running across the street.
(Redemption blamed it on the Bossa Nova since, Sun 7 Apr 2013, 1:24, 1 reply)

Cheese it!
Thankfully my little Mealybugs (AKA Scrotely) has never done a runner.
I can remember 1st season of teeball we had a runner called Charlie. The ball gets hit to outfield - Charlie appears to go get it but keeps going, all of a sudden Sam - Charlies dad jumps up, swears and sets off across the oval after Charlie as Charlie is slowly running off crying and disrobing.
Our first streaker at age 6-7!
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Sun 7 Apr 2013, 4:48, closed)