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Jill Nicholson Narrative Essay January 4, 2005
The Special Spaghetti

During my childhood, I did many funny and embarrassing things, but one of the most memorable involved my sister and some special spaghetti. She was about 13, so I must have been 11. She had invited her friend and her friendís mother to dinner. It was the first time my sister had ever cooked dinner by herself for guests, and she wanted everything to be perfect. My sister is naturally a very serious and worried person, and she was a nervous wreck that night, trying to do everything absolutely perfectly. Perfection and concentration were very important to her, so she did not want me, her little sister, in the kitchen. But I had other plans.

Before dinner, while my sister was cooking and preparing everything, I was going crazy. I was really hungry and could smell the delicious spaghetti sauce cooking, but she refused to let me taste it. The wonderful aroma of garlic and onions, spice and meatballs filled the house, but too bad. She just said, ďNo! You need to wait for dinner! Get out of here and let me cook! This spaghetti needs to be perfect for my guests!Ē Good heavens. This spaghetti must really be something special. I had to taste it!

Finally! She left the kitchen because she had to go to the bathroom. This was my chance to taste the forbidden sauce. I immediately ran into the kitchen and went straight for the sauce. At the age of 11, I loved bubble gum and blowing the biggest bubbles possible, so I had a huge wad of gum in my mouth at all times. This particular day, I remember I had about 10-15 pieces of bright green apple flavor gum, my favorite. Now, 10 or 15 pieced of gum chewed together is a very big piece of gum. Apple gum. Bright green. Not an easy thing to lose. However, when I opened my mouth to taste my sisterís spaghetti sauce, the gum fell in, and I lost it. I grabbed the spoon and frantically tried to find the gum, but then I heard my sister coming back from the bathroom. I knew it was dangerous, but I had to leave the gum and run away before my sister caught me in the sauce.

I waited in terror for my sister to start screaming about the mysterious large green blob she had found floating in her sauce, but she never did. She finished cooking and got ready for her guests. She put on a nice dress and put her hair up. She set the tables with flowers, a new cloth and our best dishes. She even made me put on a dress. She was really excited about her special dinner. Soon, the guests arrived and commented on how lovely the table looked, how delicious it all smelled, and oh! The spaghetti! I was very, very nervous and afraid. I was sure the mother or the girl my sister had invited would find the big green gum in their spaghetti and maybe think it was a meatball and eat it. But it never happened. Nobody got the gum.

The next day, my mother and sister asked me why I hadnít eaten any of the spaghetti. Why didnít I want to taste it anymore? It was usually my favorite. Of course I had to tell them about the gum. I was sure my sister and mother would be furious with me, but instead of getting mad, they both started laughing uncontrollably. They thought it was hilarious. There was still a giant pot of spaghetti in the refrigerator left over from the dinner, but we had to throw it out several days later. Nobody wanted to eat melted green apple gum spaghetti.

I donít chew big wads of gum anymore, and if someone tells me to stay out of the kitchen, now I obey. Iíll never forget the night I lost my gum in my sisterís special spaghetti sauce. I still wonder if maybe her guests were too polite to say anything about the strange-tasting, chewy green meatball.
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