I remember that horrible day like it had just taken place. The cold shiver down my spine, the ocean of tears running down my cheek, that day was the day I became a man. I woke on a bright summer morning in Amarillo Texas. I was visiting my dad for a few weeks, and we did what any father and son would do to spend time together we played catch.
Later during that dreadful day he called me into the living room, when I entered I noticed warm sensation about it. The fire was on; he was just standing there as if frozen periodically. Staring at me with his big brown convincing eyes his lips rose as if to speak. Then he told me the most horrifying sentence of my life.
If you want to be a man he said you don’t need that blanket you always sleep with! You’ll never become a real man as long as you have that thing. Keep in mind I was only 12, and I had the blanket my entire life I only slept with it now for comfort. My father with his booming voice made me feel as if he would never accept me, or love me the way he used to unless I got rid of it. He gave me an ultimatum, then said do whatever you want with it I’m done trying it’s useless since you’ll never grow up.
I stared into the dancing warm beautiful flames of the fire. I keep thinking over in my head what to do, then almost immediately I cast it into the burning pit of fire, and my baby blanket was forever lost in the abyss. I still have no clue why I did it, but to give myself some ease at mind I say I just wanted to make my dad proud.