Personal Narrative-I Don T Joke

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“Hurry up, Penelope!” shouted her mom. “We are going to be late to the chocolate factory and you know that will NOT make Willy Wonka happy.” As usual Penelope Parks didn’t seem to care about anyone’s schedule other than her own. The New York penthouse where she had grown up was miles from the chocolate factory. In morning traffic, they were definitely going to have issues. “I am not finished with my hair!” she yelled down the stairs. “Mom, will you look for my black boots? These brown ones look seriously hideous with my outfit.” While her mom searched, Penelope finally came strolling down the stairs, her long brown hair curled to perfection. She snatched her black Uggs from her mom and threw on a sweater with her leggings and flannel button-up

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