Assignment: Personal Narrative
by Eddie Lewis
I already knew she liked me; she couldn’t keep her eyes off of me. Then it happened; I was doing my regular routine. Eat my cookies with milk, and get ready for my 30 minute nap. She walked up to me with the biggest smile, holding a paper ring with both hands. I knew something bad was going to happen.
“Let’s get married!” She shouted. I obviously couldn’t think of anything to say, mainly because I still had cookies in my mouth. So she repeated it, again, and again, and again. Just like a broken record player. I practically had no choice but to say yes, mostly because she kept asking, but also because the whole class was looking at us.
“Can I at least finish me cookies?” I yelled, knowing that two more cookies weren’t going to last forever, but I still took my time.
When it came down to the “well planned” wedding, I realized that I didn’t have a ring nor a well pressed suit. All I had was a shirt filled with cookie crumbs. But instead of worrying, I just went with the flow. As I walked out to get married, all my friends were standing in two lines, leaving me enough room to walk down the aisle. No music was playing, no decorations, and the closes thing I had to a best man was a bush. My mom and dad were at work, and I’m pretty sure they would not approve of me getting married at such a young age. Especially because I didn’t even know how to spell married yet.
As I walked to the end of the isle, where I was greeted by my teacher, I turned around to see my “Fiancée.” She was wearing her regular clothes, but she had a paper tiara on. She was still holding the ring with both hands. She decided that it was ok in a wedding to run to me, and almost trip on me. She hands me the ring.
“I now pronounce you man and wife; you may now kiss the bride,” the teacher said, everybody saying EW because girls had germs.
“I guess we are married,” I said.
“Yes we are NOW RUB MY BACK!” she shouted.
What was a nice marriage became slavery. I had to do everything for her, even give her my cookies. At first I thought that this was normal and that this is actually what marriage was. So I kept doing everything she told me to do. One day while I was massaging her feet, my friend came up to me and told me that she has another husband… glue boy.
“Glue boy!” I shouted he doesn’t even talk; he just eats glue all day. So instead of confronting her right away, I took my nap.
When I woke up, we had a very short talk:
“Are you cheating on me?” I said
“Yes,” she whispered
“I want a divorce!” I screamed.
“Fine,” she yelled.
I threw the ring on the floor. And we both walked our separate ways to our separate groups, acted like nothing happened, and ate our cookies with milk. The only real problem was that I knew I was going to have to get married when I was older. The minute I realized that, the nurse was calling my mom asking to bring an extra pair of underwear.