Here's one of the essays I did back in high school, this one is on more of a personal note than most of my essays I've posted so far. It's an incident that occurred in my early childhood, and could had killed me if nothing was done. If you wish to publish this somewhere else, please be considerate and ask me for the permission to do so.
Here’s a story from my memorable early childhood, I was merely a 2 years old toddler who already had taught himself how to operate a VCR on his own. But, there’ve been times that my curiousity could have turned out to be a fatality but I’ve cheated death.
One bright morning when all of my older siblings were learning new things at school, I was wandering around the huge looking world, which was my house. It looked big to me because I was only a tiny toddler. I stepped into my sister’s bedroom and something grabbed my attention. It was bright and shiny yellow bottle. At that time. I couldn’t read it but I was definitely assuming that it was a yummy thing to drink. I made my own decision to take it into my hands and put it into my drooling mouth and gulp some of it down.
All of a sudden, a shriek came out and it was my mother going into a frenzy as she ran right for me and grabbed me out of the room. She buckled me into the car, which could have broken a record for the quickest buckling up. She ignited the engine and headed for the emergency room at our local hospital. I couldn’t keep my eyes on anything at all due to my mother’s trembling shock, which distorted my view of everything.
My mother’s eyes were filled with uncontrollable tears like any mother’s would be in this situation. I was rushed into a holding room and the doctor handed a vial of medication to my mother and was told to force me to swallow it to induce vomiting. She struggled so hard to force me to drink that the sweat was running off her forehead. I was very stubborn and didn’t want to take any medications like any kids would. After struggling, my mother succeeded into getting me to drink it. The only thing my mother was trying to do was to console me and stop me from crying my head off. Within two minutes, I started to vomit, and my mother acquired a bundle of vomit splashed onto her clothes and face. The point is, curiousity can and does kill, and toddlers need to have somebody looking over them. Luckily I had somebody to watch over me.
Copyright 2001 Paul Moreau. All rights reserved.
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