Personal Narrative: Phryne Finds Religion
Phryne Finds Religion:
Just a Closer Walk with These Missionaries
Yesterday started with the Mormons. Mom’s sight was blocked by the edge of the fence. She didn’t see them walking down the street towards the house, but I could feel them. I knew the familiar scrape of those black feet on the gravel. The giant one (with the strange big squish that sways low) has a jingle on that bag he carries that I can hear from the corner. They came to our door once, and I can still smell them if the air blows just right. I knew if I could just get her to open the door before she saw them, I’d have my chance. Thankfully, she did!
I charged down the driveway like I was headed for my pee spot, but I didn’t stop to pee, and my timing was perfect. I touched the gravel just as they came around the fence. I leapt forward with my mightiest noise, and landed squarely in front of them. I began recounting their many …show more content…
They said words I couldn’t make out in Mom’s general direction, but did not look back, their eyes focused on the gravel in front of them. I hate the gravel. It sticks in my feet, and Mom is not very careful about getting it out. Maybe their Mom isn’t any better at it.
I do not understand why my Mom always calls them “The Mormons,” but I get the impression it has to do with their black pants.
Mom’s face was still the bad color, and she was not making a happy noise. She grabbed me and held me against her squishes as we marched back to the house. She talked directly into my hair, every word vibrating, hot on my neck. “No, no! Why do you always chase those poor Mormons? They’re not CARS. They’re not birds. They haven’t ever touched you. You cannot go running off like that. You’ll get hit by a CAR, or an owl will snatch you up, baby. And poor kids, I’m so embarrassed. Now they’ll never be able to walk by the house again.”
We should be so
Just a Closer Walk with These Missionaries
Yesterday started with the Mormons. Mom’s sight was blocked by the edge of the fence. She didn’t see them walking down the street towards the house, but I could feel them. I knew the familiar scrape of those black feet on the gravel. The giant one (with the strange big squish that sways low) has a jingle on that bag he carries that I can hear from the corner. They came to our door once, and I can still smell them if the air blows just right. I knew if I could just get her to open the door before she saw them, I’d have my chance. Thankfully, she did!
I charged down the driveway like I was headed for my pee spot, but I didn’t stop to pee, and my timing was perfect. I touched the gravel just as they came around the fence. I leapt forward with my mightiest noise, and landed squarely in front of them. I began recounting their many …show more content…
They said words I couldn’t make out in Mom’s general direction, but did not look back, their eyes focused on the gravel in front of them. I hate the gravel. It sticks in my feet, and Mom is not very careful about getting it out. Maybe their Mom isn’t any better at it.
I do not understand why my Mom always calls them “The Mormons,” but I get the impression it has to do with their black pants.
Mom’s face was still the bad color, and she was not making a happy noise. She grabbed me and held me against her squishes as we marched back to the house. She talked directly into my hair, every word vibrating, hot on my neck. “No, no! Why do you always chase those poor Mormons? They’re not CARS. They’re not birds. They haven’t ever touched you. You cannot go running off like that. You’ll get hit by a CAR, or an owl will snatch you up, baby. And poor kids, I’m so embarrassed. Now they’ll never be able to walk by the house again.”
We should be so