only a week later, my mother said she thought of me and kept pressing me to go home. I smile: Mom, you are more patient! On the second day, I received an aunt's call: your mother is ill. You can come back soon. I was anxious to get dark before I ran to the station with tears in my eyes, catching up with the last bus. On the way, I prayed silently. I hope this is my mother's cheating on me. I hope she will do well. I would like to listen to her nagging, and would like to eat all the meals she made for me, and would like to take frequent time to come to see her. Only then did I realize that people need mothers if they live to be eighty years old. The car finally arrived at the entrance of the village, and the mother came running, smiling. I hugged her and wanted to cry and laugh. I blame you. What do you mean by saying something bad? The reproached mother is still happy, and she just wants to see me. The mother was busy and busy, and laid out a table of delicious food, waiting for my praise. I relentlessly criticized: red bean porridge boiled; the water boiled steamed stuffed buns are too thick; the braised pork tastes too salty. The mother's smile suddenly became awkward, and she scratched her head helplessly. I laughed in my heart. I knew that once I said something delicious, my mother had to force me to eat a lot and take it when I left. In this way, I was fed her fat and white. And, without belittling her, how can I have the chance to occupy the stove? I cooked for my mother, chatted with her, and my mother gazed at me for a long time. No matter what I said, she listened with reverent tongue and ears, and even listened to the nap. She sat beside the bed and looked at me with a smile. I said, "why don't you follow me if you hurt me so much?" She said she was not used to the city.
it didn't wait a few days, and I was in a hurry to go back. My mother begged me for another day. She said that she had sent for the city to buy food this morning, and that she would be able to make a meal for me. The county town is more than 90 miles away from here. Mother can bring back all the food that she thinks is delicious and let me eat, so that she can feel at ease. When I came back from my aunt's home, my mother's carefully prepared dishes finally came to the table. I couldn't help but wonder - the fish scales were not shaved, the chicken pieces were fine chicken hair, and the fragrant oil gold needle mushrooms had hair silk. Whether it's meat or vegetable, people can't get chopsticks. Mother was so clean when she was young, and now she is old and slovenly. When my mother saw me picking it up, she just refused to eat it. She gave it a painful compromise and sent me to the night train. It was dark, and my mother took my arm. She said, you can't get used to the road in the country. She accompanied me into the car, and kept telling the east to order West. When the cars were all opened, they hurried down, and the clothes were clamped by the door, almost falling down. I choked and fell on the window and cried, "Mom, mom, watch out! She didn't hear clearly. She ran after the car and shouted, "I'm not mad at you, my child. I know you are busy!"
this time, my mother seemed to be satisfied. She didn't rush me home again, but she kept telling me something happy: the family had a nice little calf. Next spring, she would grow a lot of flowers in the yard. Listen, I have a warm heart. Then my aunt called again and said, "your mother is ill. Come back soon." [/b] where do I believe that when we were talented, our mother said she was very good and told me not to worry about it. My aunt just kept pushing me. I was half suspicious. I went back and bought a big bag of mother's favorite cakes. When the bus reached the village, I stretched my neck and looked at it. My mother did not pick me up. There was an ominous feeling in my heart. My aunt told me that my mother had been suffering from eye diseases, and I could not see anything yesterday. I held the bag of oil in front of my chest tightly, and my heart seemed to be swept away. The mother knew she was ill, and then she telephoned me home. She wanted to look at me a little more and say a few more words to me. Originally, I was so fussy about the food that I would not like to eat chopsticks, but how careless I was when she blurred her vision. I know that you are the only person in this world who will not be angry with me, the only one who will always wait for me, that is, the love that I dare to wait for you for so long. But, mother, do I really be so busy?