Personal Narrative: How I Learned To Ride A Bike

When I was three I learned to ride a bike. I rode off right away without my mom's help and I kept on riding up and down the street for hours. At first my mom was worried, but then she saw I could ride on my own and she was happy. Some time later, I was tired from riding up and down the street over and over again, so I came back to the driveway and braked as hard as I could with the front brake, which made the bike flip. Then I fell off my bike and I rolled, head over heels, scraping and scratching my shins, knees, and arms until I finally stopped a few feet from my drive way. My mom came ran to me, picked me up, and took me inside.
She cleaned me up and washed my cuts while I was wailing, begging for her to stop. But she would not stop, she