Personal Narrative: The Last Battle

The Last Battle During the winter months, many children entertain themselves by building a snowman, playing in the snow, sledding, or maybe having a snowball fight with an older sibling. Like other eight year old kids, I loved going outside as soon as we received winter blizzard … but my idea of entertainment was drastically different than the average child. Instead of playing in the snow, I preferred battling the Bobcats - and the battle that I lost will be scarred on my face forever. The Bobcats I would “battle” were not the animal - I was not that dumb. Growing up with my dad owning a small business called Kasella Concrete, we had machines that were basically a version of a forklift, called a Bobcat. When a winter blizzard would arrive, my dad would have to plow the snow off the concrete so that the work trucks could drive in and

She was puzzled and she finally agreed something was wrong, my lip should not have still been swollen. We sat at the kitchen table contemplating what it could be, when she finally looked at me with wide eyes and said “Matthew, I think that’s the tooth you knocked out!” Crazy enough, with a closer examination of the lump we reached our conclusion: When my tooth went through my lip and opened the hole up, my second one had been lodged somewhere inside the flesh that the doctor did not see. The tooth slowly made its way to the surface, and at the time we discovered it, it extruded about an eighth of an inch. My mom then grabbed a tweezers, and with my permission, yanked it out of my lip. I did not care about the fact that I removed a tooth out of my lip… it meant I received money from the tooth fairy. Eventually, the only thing that remained of my little “slip up” my scar and fake front teeth. Looking back, maybe running at a 6,400 pound skid loader was not the best idea for a game as an eight year