Personal Narrative: A Mama's Boy In My Life

People have called me a mama’s boy all of my life. I freely admit that I still am a mama’s boy to this day, even though my mama has been dead for 17 years. I talk to her every day as if she were still here with me. My fondest memory of she and I together was the time she told me that we were going out for a drive. I was only twelve at the time. I didn’t know where we were going, nor did I care. I was with mama, and that was all that mattered. My older brother and sister knew what was going on, however, they never said a word to me. We got into the car and drove off. Our first stop was at the little convenient store down the street. “We need snacks and drinks for the drive” my mother said. When we turned on the access road to the