Personal Narrative: My Dad

Most dad’s endeavor to teach their kids how to ride a bike the easiest way, with training wheels and parental guidance. However, my dad had the most radical methods when it came to teaching. It was a Sunday morning, which meant that my dad was doing his routine jog around the neighborhood. As sweat dripped from his chin, he noticed the neighbor’s kid riding his bike.
“I wonder how much time would it take me to teach my son?” He thought.
He dashed inside the house and busted through the door of my bedroom. My eyes groggily opened and slowly adjusted to see my dad grabbing me by the arm and dragging me outside. My dad grabbed both of my shoulders and shook me to get me to pay attention. He started lecturing me on the importance of knowing how to ride a bike. The problem was I didn’t have a bike, and I didn’t feel the need to learn how to ride a bike at the moment.
“Dad, can I go back to bed?” I whined.
“Son, the day is perfect, therefore I’ll teach you the art of riding a bike,” he proclaimed.
“Dad, it’s hot and I’m tired and I am melting like a popsicle and don’t forget the fact that I don 't
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One hour had passed and we were barely in the sixth hole. Sitting in the uncomfortable golf car, my sister approached me. She whispered in my ear that we should play a prank on dad. As my dad got ready to swing the ball, he jerked as he heard loud noise. “WHAP.” I quickly shove my hands in my pockets and observe my results. His shot was erratic as it shot to the left. He shouts “fore!” to warn the other golfers of the stray ball. I stiffened as I saw my dad storming up to me with an angry face. I glanced around to see that my sisters had hidden, safe from the wrath of my father. He snatched my hand and yanked me out of the golf cart. He lectured me on about how badly I had behaved on the golf course today, and he said that I had to be more serious and responsible about

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