Personal Narrative: Myra's Adoption

If I could have one do-over in life, I would relive my sister Myra's adoption day. The adoption took place about nine years ago, when Myra and I were both five. I remember feeling extremely petulant because I was wearing a dress. I cannot blame my younger self for my actions because I didn't truly know what I was doing, but I as I look back on that day, I feel a twinge of regret, due to a typical child reaction. The pictures that were taken show my sisters, smiling and excited, and me, looking sulky and bad-tempered; in essence, I was being a brat. I regret my behavior because I'm afraid that Myra might have believed that my attitude was because I didn't want to be her sister, and that was most certainly not the case. I was having a selfish