Personal Narrative - My Mother, the Hippie Essay -- Personal Narrative

My Mother, the Hippie My mother is a hippie in every sense of the word. Therefore, as a young child, I spent a split up of time in the Great Outdoors. There were even some years in which we traveled around living on commune farms. I guess the huge gardens where you could always find my mom, and where I earned my nickname Beans. I recall the cats and goats that were always roaming around, and I remember falling asleep in entourage stacked to the ceiling with bunkbeds, where all of the kids on the farm slept. So what in the world does this have to do with a reflection of the first day of manikin? Simply put, it reaffirms the old adage that we become exactly like our parents. When I reached my adolescent years, I hated being outside and going camping with no water or electricity for days--for fun. But now that I am an adult, I find myself becoming exactly like my mother. I enjoy a life of simplicity, and I love being outside--whatever form that may take--be it work or taking a class such as this. Therefore, my single closely vivid reflection of this entire first day of class is...