For the last two weeks, I've been puzzling over this challenge. I guess I get to thank Kate for that :^/ Reflecting over the years has brought back memories of "how in the world did my parents allow that?!" or later in life "what the heck was I thinking?"
It started when I was 8. I had had enough and it became suddenly quite clear to me that I did not belong with 'these people'. I was sure that I had been adopted and my 'real' family was out there looking for me. I emptied my younger brother's wooden tool box so that I would have a small durable suitcase. I filled it with my favorite dress and a change of socks. As I charged for the door, that same little brother rushed after me. I thought he wanted his tool box…but no. "You aren't leaving me here alone!" So we went together. Several hours later, even though we hid blocks away, our mother found us.
Then when I was thirteen our family relocated to southern Japan, the island of Kyushu (13,761 sq. mi. in area). My parents, like everyone else's, had curfews and established rules. Homework done first. Play with friends, okay but must come when whistled for. And for teenagers: Home by 9pm on school nights and 10 on weekends….and…in Japan….don't leave the island. Really! Don't leave the island?!
You might also 'talk' yourself onto a family of fishermen's boat and go see how they harvested octopi.
I couldn't find a picture of the 'wiggle boats' like the one I was invited onto near Shikanoshima, an island in Hakata Bay just over a bridge from our home in Hakata, outside of Fukuoka. This one looks nothing like it but it's pretty and I'd have a go at talking my way onto it.
Not thinking too much about risks has given me a life-time of adventures and lots and lots of stories. Yes, there are, mixed into the stories, some that are cautionary tales on what not to do. Very real 'what not to do' tales. But still…..there's not much I would do differently…okay, maybe my second husband :^)