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 class I had my Bat Mitzvah and the year I became a Jewish woman. In the few years onwards I turned twelve, I ate sparingly on that holiest daytime - no junk food, no breakfast. And in the years before that, I ate whatever I wanted. My mom too. Shes not Jewish - she still happened to marry my Jewish public address system. My dad always fasted. Hed go to Temple in the morning, and wed go with him - me, my sister, and my mom. My sister was a baby, and I sat on the shock and colored my coloring books on the metal chair I was speculate to be sitting in, which pleased my parents because I didnt make noise. At sensation or so, wed leave Temple and drive home. The car windows would be rolled up tight, locking in the rays of the early afternoon sun, and I would bask, unaffixed and alive, dressed up and soaking in the suns light. The sunshine really does realize different in the very middle of the day. When we got home, my mom would make me a snack, and Id go off and play or just aboutthing. I dont really remember. My dad would nap, or read. I do remember that. He was no shimmer on Yom Kippur. A few years later, I think I must have been about nine. We got home from Temple, and the kitchen was lit by that baking and yellow midday sunshine. Our striped curtains hung eagerly. My dad lay down on the living room 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 fruit drawer at the bottom. There were four grandma 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 towel 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 hug e bite. A huge cruncher That bite echoed around the whole house - into the bedrooms and into the bathrooms it attacked my dad on the couch, and probably even rocketed the neighbors.