In fact, our parents are also trying to grow up.

In fact, our parents are also trying to grow up.
"have you eaten yet?"


in my childhood impression, my father was an extremely male chauvinist. Because every time when it was time for dinner, my father would take away the remote control from me and transfer it to Hong Kong TV station, asking me to help my mother as soon as possible.

on the other hand, he is set on the sofa like an uncle, because he thinks it should be done by my mother or his children. He is the backbone of the family, so he doesn't have to do such a trifle.

my father is a very strange man. I can never figure out his temper. He will scold you if you buy the wrong CD, and he will scold you if you don't want to buy cigarettes for him. Even sometimes, you will be scolded for making minor mistakes like "the couplet is not corrected."

anyway, I was afraid of him when I was a child, because you never know when your father will want to scold you.

so every time I am asked by the teacher to take the test paper back to my parents for signature, I have to wait until my father is away before secretly taking it out for my mother's signature. Because in my father's eyes, 80 points is looking for a fight. But I also know that I can no longer muddle through the final exam like this, so I will be extremely careful every time before the final exam to avoid all mistakes caused by carelessness.

so that my grades will not be affected by some non-intellectual factors. Maybe that's why my grades are always in the top three of the class.

but my father is also a person who pursues a clear distinction between rewards and punishments. before every exam, he promised me that as long as you get more than 97 points, I will grant you a wish.

so he usually has to grant me three wishes every semester.

I was stupid at first. All I could think about was CDs and bully games. Until the fourth grade, my sister asked me, Why don't you let your father buy you a PS?

so I own a PS. You know, all the P kids at that time were bullies, so there were only two families in the village who owned PS, and I was one of the few 1/2. But this is not a good reason for me to think my father, because I fought for it myself, he just set up the necessary reward and punishment system.


in the first year of junior high school, my father changed his job in other provinces and came back only once a year.

I felt good at first, and finally got out of my dad's control. But slowly, when the water pipe in the house burst, the light tube burned out, and the TV suddenly lost its signal, I realized the importance of my father. Because I can't fix appliances, I can't fix walls, but my dad can do all this.

every time he told me to step aside, then picked up a wrench to take apart the TV set and tampered with the wiring inside. I stood by and pretended to study, but I couldn't understand anything.

once after dinner and chatting with my mother, my father called back and said that it was too cold and that the factory was located on the plateau, so that he could not sleep well at night and sometimes had a nosebleed inexplicably. I was silent, and my mother kept saying that she would let him go to the hospital for an examination. Suddenly I heard the other side of the phone say, "where's my son?"

my mother said, "it's right next door to me. Would you like to talk to him on the phone?"

my father said, "No, I have class tomorrow. Tell him to go to bed."

I wanted to tell him "take care of yourself", but forget it. Although I am not as afraid of him as I was in primary school, there seems to be a gap between father and son. If you don't know what it is, it's like two people standing in an hutong, looking at each other and finding that they all feel biased towards their own side and give way to each other.

but it's different when we go to college. We would sit in the living room and drink tea like friends. He told me interesting stories about his youth, and I told him everything I saw in that city. Somehow, when we talked about my childhood, I confessed that I was afraid of him when I was young, one of the reasons was that he was too grumpy.

as soon as the word "grumpy" came out, I knew I was saying it too directly. one second his eyes narrowed with laughter, and the next he frowned.

I thought he was going to scold me, but after a long time I heard him sigh, stare at the teapot and say, "I thought I gave you the best thing." Unexpectedly, am I really fierce? "

the moment behind the question was elongated. I seemed to jump out of time and replay my entire childhood in my mind. It turned out that what I got was not only the PS, but also a pile of comic books on the shelf, all kinds of extracurricular books in the nightstand, the scooter he bought for me, the sixth bike that was stolen and still bought by my temper, and the private high school where he had to save work to earn my tuition.

that's what people often say, "kids don't know anything".

because children only see the most superficial expression that people use to hide their emotions, they can never understand the profound meaning behind it. As long as the other party amuses himself, they are good people, while those who push themselves will feel that they are very bad.

maybe the role of father is so contradictory that he has given all the good things to his children, but he always has to play the "bad cop" of the family. Obviously do not want them to cry, but want to use it to exercise their character.


the older you get, the more you can understand what your parents have done, including their bitterness, anger, and sobbing.

I used to think that parents should be perfect, not to make any mistakes, not to be selfish, not to be stingy, not to lead by example. As long as they made a mistake in front of me, I could make the same mistake.

Choose from our high neck evening dresses to show your superb sense of fashion. Happy to help you to choose your dreaming garments.

because I know that punishing myself is the best weapon to punish them.

until the evening when my grandfather died, my mother opened the door and her cell phone was still on this side.I burst into tears. Instead of asking "what's wrong", I went over to give her a solid hug. She cried and asked me loudly, "Why didn't your grandfather wait for us?"

I didn't answer her. I just stood hard.

then we rushed back home all night and stayed in that small village for a whole week.

that week I thought about a lot of things, about life, about parting, about my parents. Sitting on the mountain reading, I suddenly realized: "parents are actually human beings, they also make mistakes, they are also growing up."

like an epiphany, all previous hatred and unwillingness disappeared at that moment.

No longer dwell on the mistakes made by your parents, no longer look at them in a superior manner, no longer hostile, no longer to win sympathy. Instead of warmth in the real sense, the rainstorm, the weather becomes cold, or even simple enough to be homesick, send a text message and call to say hello. Although I know that our talk time is never more than 3 minutes, but every time I finish, I always feel that today is another beautiful day.

starting tonight, why don't you try to make progress with them? When they do something wrong, just like they did with us when we were young, don't despise it, but be patient. When you go out to dinner, don't worry about playing with your cell phone and taking pictures. Maybe they want to talk to you about interesting things in college and about the people you like.

they love you, but not as directly as the parents in the movies.

they also hope that one day they can make progress with their children,

instead of being surpassed and then thrown away.

good night.

"I made you your favorite Baked Chicken in Salt"

"but I just asked my classmates to have dinner"