One story that my family tells over and over about me is about an incident that happened when my family and I were visiting some family friends in Florida. I was in third grade. It happened at my parents' friends' house. I got a full liter of soda out of the fridge to pour for myself. it slipped out of my hands and hit the floor, where the top exploded off and the bottle spun around and around, spraying soda everywhere. Soda covered almost the whole room. The bottle was empty. Everything was wet and sticky. But i didn't get any soda on me. Neither did my parents' friend Fernando, who had been walking in the kitchen at the time of that i dropped the bottle. We had nothing on us. we were both dry with no drops of soda anywhere on us, but the room was covered in soda. Fernando bust out laughing and did not make me clean the whole room; just the floor. To this day, every time my name is mentioned to Fernando, he talks about what happened.
I think that my family tells this story just to tell people a story about someone in the family. I do not see any morals to my story, except maybe not to let 9-year-olds handle full liters of soda. Other than that, I do not see any other purpose for repeating this story over and over again. My family likes to talk about it because they find it funny and humorous. Fernando still talks about it although it happened 7 years ago, probably because he finds it amusing as well.
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