Personal Narrative Essay: The Best Day I Changed My Best

Superior Essays
On November 27th, 2008, I was ecstatic and ready to have the best day ever. But little did I know, that what was about to happen would change my point of view on friends and honesty forever. When I depended on some kids I had just met, I was introduced to the hateful world of trust, lying, getting busy, and time.
It was 7:00 am sharp and everyone was still asleep, quiet as a mouse. That is, everyone except me. How could I be asleep for a day like this? My birthday only comes once a year and now I’m turning 5! This was my first real birthday party, and I had invited all my new friends from pre-kindergarten! They all told me that they couldn’t wait, but they had a smirkish face on when they told me how excited they were-oh well-they were probably
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“ Woah, you scared me! I love it! My friends will think it’s great!” I told her.
A couple hours passed and everyone was finally awake. Since my father and I share a birthday, I went over to wish him a happy birthday too. He was making breakfast, pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, biscuits, juice, bagels, anything you could ever think of, - it’s kind of his specialty- he cooked it. I walked past my kitchen table and went over to hug my mom and thank her for everything.
“ They’ll be here soon, why don’t you head upstairs, and get ready?” My mother suggested.
As I headed up the stairs, I was skipping and hopping and grinning from ear to ear. “ This is it. This is going to be my perfect party with all my new friends! It’ll be so fun!” I thought to myself. My hands were sweating as I slid my perfect, royal blue blouse over my head, threw on my white jean capris’ and my yellow Crocs. The doorbell rang, and with my heart pounding, I ran to answer the door. *Sigh* It was just the mailman dropping off yet another package to my Amazon addicted, father. I dropped the package on the sofa and went into the kitchen. As I sat there, drowning my boredom in the chili cheese dip, there was a knock at the door. I raced across the floor and ran to open the door. My parents’ friends had arrived, and my mom’s friend Hannah picked me up and gave me a wet, slobbery, lip-gloss covered, kiss. Why do adults always do that? I headed back to my sad, wrinkly,

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