12 Sentence Story

When I was little I loved jumping around on the furniture, jumping around at gymnastics, and jumping around while playing outside on the trampoline. I loved being active; sitting down to watch TV wasn't an option. One day I was in the living room and I started a game, much to my mother's dismay, of jumping to and from furniture around the room. I hopped onto the table, over the couch, near the TV, and on the arm chair. I loved this game until things took a turn for the worse. Of course. My mother always had to be right when she told me not to jump on the couch, not to cut my own hair, not to let go of her hand in the mall. It seemed like she was always right and I was always wrong. Crashing head first into the coffee table after finishing a front flip, completely shocked I was when my head hit the glass. How bad was the damage? I was bawling, and bleeding, and embarrassed, and had a big gash in my head. My mother always had to be right, her advice never failing, the comfort she provided, the lesson taught-what a great mom to have.