[摘要]
My Fathers Son
Its hard being an astronauts son. I mean, everybody expects you to be special or perfect, and Im just an average elevenyear-old kid. Im an average s...
My Fathers Son
Its hard being an astronauts son. I mean, everybody expects you to be special or perfect, and Im just an average elevenyear-old kid. Im an average student, and Im average, too, when it comes to basketball, football, soccer, and baseball.
I often wonder how my father ever had a son like me. I mean hes so special and so good at everything he does. In high school he was captain of the football team, class president, and editor of the school newspaper.
Well, to tell you the truth,I do have a little talent that nobody knows about. I write poems and stories and keep them in a red notebook in my bottom desk drawer.
Nowadays I dream about being a famous writer, but I used to dream about doing something spectacular to impress my father and make him proud of me-something like rescuing a child from a burning building or chasing a robber away from an old lady.
I was daydreaming in school one morning ( which I do often). I was daydreaming about being some kind of hero, like discovering an instant cure for cancer or a shot for mental illness, when I heard my English teacher announce a Fathers Day essay contest for the whole school.
"I hope we have a winner right here in my English class,
she said. "The PTA has donated three cash prizes- one hundred dollars for first prize, fifty dollars for second, and twenty-five dollars for third prize. "
After school I walked home, thinking about the essay I would write. My father is an astronaut, I would start out. No, I decided. I wouldnt do that. The whole country and maybe even the whole world saw my father as an astronaut , but that wasnt the way I saw him.
When Igot home, I kissed my mom quickly. Then I went upstairs to my room and sat down with a pen and a pad of paper. I started to think about what I would write.
How did I see my father. Hmm.
I saw him sitting with me in the dark23 when I was a little kid and had a nightmare.
I saw him teaching me how to use a bat and how to throw a baseball.
I remembered how he hugged me for hours when my dog Spotty was hit and killed by a car.
And I remembered how he surprised me with a new puppy at my eighth birthday party. When I started to cry, he told all the kids that I had a bad allergy. "Davids allergy bothers him a lot this time of year," Dad said.
And I remembered how he sat and tried to explain death to me when Grandpa Bob died.
These were the things I was going to write about my dad. To me, he wasnt just a world-famous astronaut. He was my dad.
I wrote about all these memories and put them in my essay. I handed it in the next day and was surprised to find out that the winning essays would be read in the auditorium on Thursday night. A11 the parents and students were invited.
My parents and I went to school Thursday night. One of our neighbours said, "I bet youll win the contest, David. I bet you wrote what its like to be the son of an astronaut, and youre the only one in town who could write about that. "