It was a bright, hot, summer, afternoon about six years ago. When my whole family including some of my cousins were having a picnic. This was no ordinary picnic, as we were at my grandpa’s field, had out the swimming pool, and the wagon for gator rides around the field, as well as tons of food. You could smell the damp towels, gator gas, and the delicious aroma of food all around. After I finished eating my lunch of savory chicken off the grill, crunchy corn on the cob, and drank my ice cold lemonade; I decided to take a joyride around the field while everyone else finished eating. I skipped over to my grandpa sweetly asking, “May I please have the gator keys?” “Yes, you may” he replied teasingly dangling the keys just above my reach. I jumped up, grabbed the keys, and ran off yelling, “Thanks!”
Hopping in the gator, I turned the key, gripped the rough wheel, and stepped hard on the gas pedal (I was known for being quite speedy). As I rounded the first turn I realized I might be going a little fast and began to worry for my safety.
I panicked and lost control, so before I knew it I was in the forest rolling through the trees. Finally the gator slowed to a stop in front of a tree down a little hill. As a result of my panicking, I had become
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Did you get hurt?”
I assured him I was quite alright but urged him to follow me.
My dad and I ran back to the gator. Meanwhile I explained the entire situation to him.
“So what happened exactly?” he questioned.
“I’m not sure, I was going pretty fast and lost control on the turn,” I replied.
“Well, I’m just glad you aren’t hurt.”
Once we arrived where I had crashed my dad went over and started the gator up again. He was much calmer than I was and drove it straight out. The gator ended up undamaged but I certainly was shaken up, most importantly, I learned my lesson of driving with