Personal Narrative: My Step Daddy Cade

living room where my Step Daddy Cade was already firmly perched at his usual spot on the couch watching television. He looked dressed for success in a dingy wife-beater and an old pair of ratty boxers. As I watched him stare almost comatose at the television to me he looked as if he was already half-crocked. I continued to stand there for another moment unnoticed as his attention appeared intently focused on today’s episode of Maury. On the screen newly mothered teens where arguing with their boyfriends about whether they were the fathers’ of the babies whose pictures appeared draped in the background. When I eventually did catch his attention, he took one look at me and I watched as a smirk curled up from around the corners of his mouth. That was right before he had stashed it away behind his bottle of beer, taking a long swig.

And in that one sententious sentence I knew I’d been busted. There was no point in bullshitting him. He was too smart for that and had been down that road before. Besides, I was sure that the way I must have looked in my enervated hung over state. I had what I’d been doing last night written all over me. “Yeah,” I said in response to his question right before quickly ducking my head into the refrigerator to see if there was any O.J. left. As I searched for the juice the refrigerator’s cool air rapidly encompassed around my aching head and it felt really nice against my flush skin briefly ameliorating my headache. At that moment I had wished I could’ve just stayed in there forever. “Don’t worry, kid, your secrets safe with me,” my step daddy then said to me before letting out a solid burp which he then followed up by lifting his leg so he could scratch his