Personal Narrative-Rough And Tough Stuff

Rough and Tough Stuff

“Yay!”, I exclaimed, as I jogged across the back porch. My grandpa, or “Papa” as I christened him, had just announced that we could go out to the backyard to do yard work, which we called “Rough and Tough Stuff,” which always made me enigmatic because it struck me as enticing. I caught a whiff of Rosemary and a hint of Lavender. Papa’s chocolate labrador retriever, Buju, greeted me with a “Woof!”, and a nose as wet as a melon ball. Papa started sauntering back toward the door, slow as a snail, when I asked, “Where you going?” (I was about five years old at the time, so I did not have much knowledge of correct grammar.) “I have to get the tools,” he explained. “Don’t go into the yard while I’m gone, okay? I’ll only be
“AAAaaahhh!” I screamed, as I realized what was about to happen. A pave stone looked up from the ground to meet me. I instinctively put my hands out and braced myself for the fall. Suddenly I experienced a flash of blinding pain that shocked my whole body. I was stunned for a moment. I noticed my steady bleeding and realized what had happened. I had tripped over a tree root and injured my hand on one of those wretched pavestones! And it hurt like crazy! “Owwwww!!!” I screamed in agony. “What’s the matter?” a voice shrieked. I craned my neck to see that it was my mom. “You look like you’ve been bitten by a snake!” she yelled, with a hint of worry in her voice. “I hurt my hand on a pave stone!” I wailed. “Oh, honey bear,” she replied. In that moment, while I grasped my wounded hand, I must have realized that I could have prevented my cut by listening to Papa. My mom sprinted toward me to lift me over her shoulder. As we were about to enter, Papa came into the doorway. “What happened?”, he scolded. “I told you specifically not to wander into the backyard! You know whatever I direct you to do, it is for the best!” Based on this experience, when I hear directions, I know I shouldn’t be selfish and disobey them just because they do not entice me as “fun”. I know that whatever my parents say or do to me, there is a purpose. I know that whatever my parents say or do to me, it is for the