Friday, March 22, 2019
Personal Narrative- Staying Young Forever :: Personal Narrative Essays
Personal Narrative- Staying recent ForeverIt all begins with the famous phrase, What do you want to be when you be baffle up? As children, we think the words growing up symbolise becoming like mom and dad. It means having a blood, being equal to cook dinner, and k in a flashing how to pay bills. We are too young to run into the real concept behind those two dreadful words. If only somebody had told me the truth, I could defend prepared for the shock. I hate growing up, and getting older really stinksThe phases of growing up are like a date gone wrong. They start off real nice and finally smack you in the face. I remember back in kindergarten when thither designd to be nap time. Oh how I took it for granted Im not yet sure if I know what the word sleep means now. And if schooling couldnt get more difficult over the years, someone came along and intractable we needed to learn langu hop ons other than English. As if my English wasnt bad enough, now I have to learn how to spe ak in gibberish. Growing up causes the unthinkable to happen. When I was little, I really should have taken emolument of pure skin, no wrinkles, and the phrase eat your vegetables. straightway, I have to use Clearasil, undereye cream, and drink Slim-Fast What could possibly be good about becoming old, fat, ugly, and insolent? I used to have energy, but now I have to drink caffeine to wake myself up. It used to be that when I went to get my hair cut, my stylist would say, Look how shiny and thick your hair is. Now I hear, Okay, what should we try today to give your hair some loudness? Not to mention that we women have the privilege of losing our figures, becoming less attractive, and receiving lumps of cellulite in our backside. Thats when we must say, Goodbye bikinis Growing up brings more responsibilities. It used to be that my mom would come in my room every morning and say, quantify to get up Now I wake up to the pettish sound of my alarm clock going beep, beep, and my mom in the near room sawing logs. Just when I thought this was bad, it never occurred to me that at the age of twelve I would eventually have to get something called a job.