Personal Narrative: My Life As A Capri-Sonne

For most people asking for a Capri-Sonne is not a defining moment in their existence, for me that sliver colored squishy pouch of fruit juice with grapes that looked like purple miniature beach balls etched in the middle was the object that lured me into the world of speaking German. I was 2 years old when my mother received a phone call from my father exclaiming that the Army had assigned him to William O. Darby Kaserne and later that month our family, would be uprooted from suburban Seattle and replanted in a rural yet medieval Nuremberg, Germany.
Thus far, my world as I knew it had been a two-story cream-colored house with white trimming occupied by nuclear family, my two elder brothers, Hiram, 6 and Theodore, 4, my mother and father. In this world there existed only one language, English and only one me..
After a grueling 20-hour flight, stopping in Detroit, New York, London, Frankfurt and finally Nuremberg. We emerged into a world of thousands of strangers and dozens of languages not only learn a new language, but construct a new identity bold enough to handle survival in a foreign society by myself. A few days after arrival, I found myself in Nerumberg American elementary school, a military based school/daycare center where I was separated from my brothers and felt hopelessly