Argument Style Essay
My Argument Style- Essay I
Several months after the birth of my youngest daughter, I took her to my mom’s house for her first visit. Soon the two of us were settled in, and my mom called my grandmother down to join in our visit. Being a devoted wife, mother of five, as well as a college student, my time is limited, but because my grandmother only lives a couple blocks away from my mom’s house she was there knocking on the door in a matter of minutes. As she came ushering in I stood up to great her. She through her hands up to the sky reached down for my belly and shouted “when is the next one due Sandy?!” I smiled with embarrassment, shook my head as to say no and in a small voice I simply said “O no she is our last.” My grandmother has always had a way with words but in my family talking back was not an option. Not even when I was called fat right to my face.
My mom used to tell me stories about my grandma having the quickest backhand this side of the Mississippi River. I remember being lectured, spanked, and grounded when for example, my mom would say I said or did something I did not do. I didn’t take long for me to learn to be a While I was never hit in my face, like my mom was, she had still placed the fear of God in me. I wouldn’t dare argue with my mom, not as a child, not as teen, not even now to this day. When anyone has in an authoritative position becomes upset with me I become extremely uncomfortable. My argument style is becomes consensual. I often become very quiet, and can be indecisive. I don’t argue, explain, defend, or reference anything unless otherwise instructed by an authorized authority. Although I was an only child, I was not the only person at home that was being controlled by my mom. She also told my dad what to do and how to do it, and he was usually consensual to any requests my mom had. There for, I feel I learned a lot about being consensual from my father.
On payday my dad would bring home his check and hand it directly to my
Several months after the birth of my youngest daughter, I took her to my mom’s house for her first visit. Soon the two of us were settled in, and my mom called my grandmother down to join in our visit. Being a devoted wife, mother of five, as well as a college student, my time is limited, but because my grandmother only lives a couple blocks away from my mom’s house she was there knocking on the door in a matter of minutes. As she came ushering in I stood up to great her. She through her hands up to the sky reached down for my belly and shouted “when is the next one due Sandy?!” I smiled with embarrassment, shook my head as to say no and in a small voice I simply said “O no she is our last.” My grandmother has always had a way with words but in my family talking back was not an option. Not even when I was called fat right to my face.
My mom used to tell me stories about my grandma having the quickest backhand this side of the Mississippi River. I remember being lectured, spanked, and grounded when for example, my mom would say I said or did something I did not do. I didn’t take long for me to learn to be a While I was never hit in my face, like my mom was, she had still placed the fear of God in me. I wouldn’t dare argue with my mom, not as a child, not as teen, not even now to this day. When anyone has in an authoritative position becomes upset with me I become extremely uncomfortable. My argument style is becomes consensual. I often become very quiet, and can be indecisive. I don’t argue, explain, defend, or reference anything unless otherwise instructed by an authorized authority. Although I was an only child, I was not the only person at home that was being controlled by my mom. She also told my dad what to do and how to do it, and he was usually consensual to any requests my mom had. There for, I feel I learned a lot about being consensual from my father.
On payday my dad would bring home his check and hand it directly to my