My Outrageous Temper

      Sometimes you have to blow off steam. I know this first hand from some very unplesant explosions of temper and some very horrible punishments. But letting your temper get the best of you is sometimes a bad thing. When I turned thirteen my mother decided that maybe I was getting a little too old for mixed martial arts. She told me I needed to act more girly like the rest of the girls my age. I didn't take that to well. I flipped! I threw my vase of my dresser, and even chucked my new Harry Potter book straight for her head. She simply caught it and put me in a sleeper hold til I cried "Mercy!" She only surpassed me in weight and pure utter strength considering she was thirty years old while me only thirteen. I was then grabbed and told to stand with two books. I thought oh wow this is stupid. She told me to lift my arms straight out with each book in hand. I did easily. She then instructed me to stand there. I laughed (in my mind) at the simple punishment. Soon five minutes passed and I was aching in my shoulders. then ten minutes went by and I was being tear jerked. After fifteen minutes she told me to drop them and I did on request with little flickers of happiness in my eyes.
           She asked, " Did you learn anything from that?"
          I said, " Yes I did mother.."
          She laughed at my utter pain and weakened arms. I will never blow up again ever. I'm scared to face that pain again. She then told our family again and again at every family meeting how funny it was. I learned anger is so not worth this ever.

"Whitney This Would Be So Cool!"

             Sometimes you think that just because someone is older they always have the coolest ideas, but in most cases there just the absolute stupiest ones. I learned this the hard way. I got stuck with my cousin Hunter for aday he was sixteen then, I was only twelve. At that time my grandmother lived in Festus, Missouri. She lived near farms and acres of land filled with cows, pigs, and well steers, and thgis is how my story got started.
            "Hey Whitney! We should go into the steer field," said my cousin with a huge grin. His grin covered half of his face full of white teeth with blue braces and those annoying bands. It always bugged me when he smiled I always thought it was like train tracks and what was even more annoying was when he ate and food got stuck in them but that is for another story to come. I simply answered with a bit of worry in my voice, "Won't we get in trouble? Grandma says were not supposed to go in there especially not now." But back then there was only a few words that could change your mind in a second at that age, and my cousin knew exactly how to push my limits. He simply said, "Come on you chicken!" I got frustrated like usual, ugh how I despised when he called me a chicken. He said before I could utter a response, " Baaawk! Whitneys a chicken!" I only responded with an ok, simply because I was already beginning to get annoyed with his petty efforts of aggravation which were working in his favor sadly. Then I sadly agreed with his idea and we put on our boots and raincoats because to add to the frustration it was raining cats and dogs. We walked out the door and as you reached the welcome mat you were pounded with punches of rain and pushed around with the freezing gusts of wind.
            Finally we walked towards the fields of the fierce, hormonal steers. You may be thinking what a stupid idea, which I am not denying but when your with a sixteen year old you think everything they do is just the absolute best! Well I was in that boat of complete lies. We slid under the electric fence keeping our distance from the tasers of wire which held enough electricity in them you'd cook like a polish sausage in a frying pan. We then walked towards the horned beasts, I was completely terrified, my cousin on the other hand wanted to do more than just be in the field. Under his green flannel shirt there was my lady bug t-shirt, and of course it was red. You always hear those tales of bulls chasing red things and objects well it works for steers as well. Hunter then smirked off, " I bet your too chicken to run around with this shirt on!" I responded as I knew what I was talking about, " I am not, your the one whose the chicken!" I felt a touch of power for once, but that soon ended. He then said those words your always scared to hear,"Prove it!" In sghrugged in total and complete fear. But stupidly I agreed. I put the shirt over my raincoat, and ran into the field and to my shock steers run faster than I thought. They kicked and huffed then ran. I think I sprinted like a cheetah coming after her young, I was faster than the wind, maybe even faster than the Olympic runners. My cousin obviously a world in front of me screamed, "RUN!" I ran for my dear life and then came along the fence. I grabbed ahold of it, and made it over. But rain and electricity do noit mix and I shocked myself with a lot of volts of this electricity. And this was my neat story I ended up in the hospital but I was ok, but one thing for sure I will never enter another steer field in red, or listen to my cousin Hunter.