Wednesday, February 6, 2019

Personal Narrative- Bonding Experience with Mom :: Personal Narrative Profile

Personal Narrative- Bonding Experience with Mom Summer was advent to an end, the night air grew brisker and the mornings were dew covered. The sun had just started to set behind our main office my father would be home soon. I walked into the kitchen only to be greeted by my bugger off cooking dinner. She stood in that location superstar hand on her hip, her one leg stuck out at her side, knee slightly bent, stirring the gage holding the spoon every the way at the tip of the handle. She looked as pissed off as could be. My mother always felt she could be doing a million other things besides cooking dinner. We sat there talking until I heard a familiar soft murmur in front of our house. The rumble was accom pan outied by my father fidgeting at the front door. His old noisy Bronco always made his nominal head known. He plodded down the hallway into the kitchen to greet my mother with a thwack on the cheek. After one more quick stir she plopped a hot pad on the table followed by a pan of sliced meatloaf in sauce. The smell of the meat, potatoes, and veggies filled the kitchen instantly and the family pull together around the table. The meal was a typical one in our household, my mother who had a million other things to do that day, including having her own personal conviction did not feel the like cooking a twelve feed meal. However, my father who always came home expecting steak did not see the meal as appetizing as the rest of us. When my father blew up at my mother we were all expecting him to. The argument of I want steak and I was working all day was common in our family. I immediately took my mothers side like I usually did because no one in our family appreciates or prize what she does. My father would later grow to regret what he said and apologize. this evening was different though. My mother usually took my fathers comments in stride knowing he really does not mean what he says. But, this time they both change int egrity at each other and my mother ended up tally out of the kitchen upset, retiring to her room.

No comments:

Post a Comment