Jashawn: Personal Narrative Analysis

I was born on March 26, 2001. I was delivered by Dr. Deborah in Mercy Hospital in Mason City, Iowa. After a lot of debate, my father gave me the name Jashawn. None of the of the family on my mom’s side liked my name. My father probably got the idea of Jashawn from one of my older cousins, who has the name Dashawn. Later on, his cousin named her son Tyshawn, and I also have a cousin named Kashawn. So, as you can tell, my dad and his family are very original. My mom left my dad, who was an abusive drug addict, constantly in and out of jail. I never really had a particular home that I grew up in, because my mom was always finding houses that she liked better than the house we were in at the moment. My most prominent memories came from an apartment downtown, a block or so from the police department.
It was a pretty big apartment with a lot of old people living there.
At one point me and my mom, my aunt her son, and my cousin savon with his family all stayed in that same building. I spent most of my days hanging out with my best friend since birth, Alek. His my and my mom were best friends from high school, and they both had sons, a year and sixteen days apart. If I wasn’t with him, my older “cousins” would come over and all play my PS2. I have a not so good memory of me really wanting some pickles. I always like to eat pickles for some reason, and one time I went to the fridge to get one, dropped the huge jar, shattering it all over the kitchen floor. Instead of being wise, and just waiting for my mom, I hopped to the living room, stepping on a shard of glass. My mom had carry me to the bathroom and tried to squeeze the glass out of my foot, resulting a blood projectiling into the wall. That same year I also had to get my tonsils out. I remember being perfectly fine until I was on the table ready to be put to sleep, I then started to bawl my eyes out, crying for my mother. After the surgery I awoke to family, stuffed animals, and ice
cream. The doctor had told me that I wasn’t going to be able to eat solid foods for a couple weeks, but me being the chunky kid I was, and still am, was eating potato chips within a couple days. I went to daycare at West Town Charlie during the day, because my mom had to work a lot. Then I started preschool there. My teacher's name was Miss Cindy. She always had these huge, dark brown moles around her mouth with hair growing out of them, so of course I asked her what they were. When I was in preschool, I had a problem of constantly peeing during nap time. Like three times out of the week, I would have to change my outfit. I wouldn’t even wake up from it, the teachers would have to wake me up, soaked in pee. One time I didn’t have any extra underwear, so I had to wear very, very small “My Little Pony” underwear. Surprisingly, I was always a well behaved child. I never once got through my years of daycare and preschool. All of my teachers told my mom they wished there were more kids like me. Whenever I didn’t want to go to Charlie Brown, I would stay at my Aunt Barb’s house. I would sit there all day, watching Judge Judy, and breathing in a pack worth of cigarette smoke. The main thing that would occupy my mind was drawing. I loved to draw, and I would do it all day. Whenever I got bored with drawing, then I would play the very appropriate game “Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas”. I would just sit there shooting cops and beating up prostitutes. At the age of four, I had memorized all of my favorite cheat codes ranging from spawning a jetpack, to making cars fly. The year I was starting kindergarten and my mom had boyfriend named Jewarius. He was a real keeper. Whenever I did something that he didn’t agree with, I would have to stand in the corner standing on one foot. If I dropped my foot then I would have to stand even longer. Another time, his kids and I were getting ready for school, and one of his sons decided it would be nice to pee on me while we were eating cereal. That relationship didn’t last very long.