Karl’s Mom
When I was eight years old, I had a friend named Karl. Karl was an adopted son and he does not mind. He told me that he doesn’t care if he was adopted for he knew his foster parents love him with all their heart, even more that his real parents.
I was happy that Karl was happy. I could truly see that his parents love him very much. After school, I would usually hang out at Karl’s. Sometimes when my mom would come home late, Karl’s mom would volunteer to look after me. She says she does not mind as long as Karl would have a playmate. Karl’s mom was a great cook. So good, in fact, that I have gained weight during my stay at their house. She would serve us delicious homemade ice cream, cookies and cake. She cooks a really tasty macaroni and cheese to.
Karl’s mom was kind woman. She is a bit older than my mom was. Karl’s parents waited long time to have a baby. When they finally found out that they couldn’t have one, they went to an orphanage and adopted Karl. They treated him as their own. Though the difference was really obvious, Karl was ebony skinned while her parents were white skinned.