Personal Narrative: How Mommy Changed My Life

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My mother resembled a Hollywood starlet whirling around the living room in her taffeta dress. This was the first time I had seen her smile since daddy left. He had been on a Navy ship for as long as I can remember, this time aboard the USS Princeton in Korea. In his absence, mommy had grown restless and happily accepted a job at the Rialto bar, conveniently situated below our upstairs apartment. “Rosie, this is perfect,” she said, “You can look after the little ones while I work.” Barbara was a year younger than me, Jimmy was five and Dottie was three. Mommy danced out the door that night, returning the next morning, ill-tempered and reeking of smoke and cheap whiskey. Each day of that summer mirrored the last. She would sleep until dinner

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