Personalities can ChangePersonalities can Change7 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year
I stretched my short arms as high above my head as I could reach, hands intertwined, my brain slowly coming out of the foggy realms that I traveled to every night. I brought my hands back down, yawning, now mostly awake. As I was slowly climbing out from under the covers stubby legs hitting the floor, my mother burst into my room singing loudly, and off-key I might add, her personal version of Happy Birthday. She stopped singing abruptly, a bemused, quizzical grin on her face. Oh, she said loudly. So, youre awake already, eh?
I groaned. Yes Mommy, Im awake already. Almost as soon as Id said the words, I wished I couldve taken them back. My mothers face darkened like a thundercloud, looming over me and threatening to rain.
What did you say? She asked from between gritted teeth. Umm, I said not-too intelligently. I said, Yes maam, Im