Personal Narrative-Home

“But Mama, I’m old enough to stay inside when we have company. James and I don’t need to be outside,” I complained. One of my father’s colleagues and his wife were visiting. Since my brother and I were only four and six, we were too young, we just didn’t know. “No, you’re not. We need you to stay outside. You’ll be bored half to death if you stay in with us anyway. Trust me, you’ll like it better if you play outside. Your father and I have chalk for you to draw with. You can use the hose to cool off. Don’t play with anything you’re not supposed to,” Mother warned. “But Mommy, I don’t want to go outside!” James, my brother whined. He was only three, so usually, he stayed inside and slept. “I don’t like Johnny.” “Mama, make him stop!” I shouted. I didn’t like my brother insulting me like that, even though I didn’t take his opinion to heart. It was like he was a little bug. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to annoy you.

Nothing that anybody says should bug you. Oh, and one more thing. Don’t hang out with that gang! Those hoods are nothing but trouble!” My mother directed. Her sharp eyes were filled with disdain. “Clarence! They’re here!” My father yelled from the parlor. “Coming Michael!” My mother yelled back. “I have to go. I’m sorry. James, listen to your brother Johnny. Johnny, be nice to James. I love you.” For the first ten minutes, we drew on the driveway. I drew a car, and James drew a truck. He was always copying