Personal Narrative - My Dad, Formally Known as Superhero :: Personal Narrative Writing

My Dad, Formally Known as SuperheroWhen I was twelve, I started fasting on Yom Kippur. That was the year I had my Bat Mitzvah and the year I became a Judaic woman. In the few years before I dark twelve, I ate sparingly on that holiest day - no dispute food, no breakfast. And in the years before that, I ate some(prenominal) I wanted. My mom too. Shes not Jewish - she just happened to marry my Jewish dad. My dad always fasted. Hed go to Temple in the morning, and wed go with him - me, my child, and my mom. My sister was a baby, and I sat on the floor and colored my modify books on the metal chair I was supposed to be seated in, which pleased my parents because I didnt make noise. At one or so, wed leave Temple and drive home. The car windows would be rolled up tight, fix in the rays of the early afternoon sun, and I would bask, free and alive, dressed up and soaking in the suns light. The sunshine really does look different in the very middle of the day. When we got home, my m om would make me a snack, and Id go forth and play or something. I dont really remember. My dad would nap, or read. I do remember that. He was no fun on Yom Kippur. A few years later, I think I must take a leak been about nine. We got home from Temple, and the kitchen was lit by that hot and yellow noonday sunshine. Our striped curtains hung eagerly. My dad lay down on the upkeep way couch and picked up his book, and my mom flipped through some papers on the kitchen table. Or maybe she was downstairs. It doesnt matter. I opened the refrigerator and pulled out the crop drawer at the bottom. There were four granny smiths lying in wait. I picked the best one and rinsed it in the sink. It was the biggest, the roundest, the firmest. The grassiest green. It promised to be the juiciest. I grabbed the wipe from the oven door and dried it. I slid on my socks across the kitchen floor and into the living room and bit down, hard. It was a huge raciness. A huge cruncher That bite echoed a round the whole house - into the bedrooms and into the bathrooms it attacked my dad on the couch, and probably scour rocketed the neighbors.