? When I was a child, I was probably the smartest and cutest in grandma's eyes. Maybe no one in the world can be better and more important than me. I should always eat the best food first. I remember when I was five or six years old, the conditions at home were average. Once upon a time, during the Spring Festival, many uncles who lived outside came back with their families and children. At that time, grandma, who was still in good health, liked to arrange breakfast for everyone, so she bought a lot of steamed buns and put them on the table for everyone. Grandma went to the store to buy steamed buns for breakfast. The meat stuffing is delicious and juicy, but I don't like the dough outside. Luckily, I got up early and found the steamed stuffed bun. In line with the principle of not wasting, I worked hard to open the steamed stuffed bun carefully and ate it carefully, keeping the appearance intact. When everyone woke up for breakfast and found that the steamed stuffed bun was gone and all the aggrieved brothers and sisters wanted to call the police, I honestly admitted my little mistake. I think this is a heinous crime and will be severely beaten. It's just that grandma's rough hands rubbed my hair and said with a smile, "This child is really smart!" " "Adults and children are scared by grandma, and dare not blame me again. I have nothing to hide from being sheltered by her. These hands have worked hard all their lives, thick and warm. When I was a child, I also loved reading. I walk freely in the library not far from home. I didn't go home when I saw the darkness. At this time, my grandmother will come over and call my real name outside. It's so loud that the neighbors can't hear it. I didn't know she liked reading since she was a child and recognized her grandson. If you take me out, you will also blame me loudly. You only read books, but don't remember to eat! Looking at the neighbors who greeted her, she showed a warm smile and her face was full of my grandmother's incomparable pride.
? Gradually grow up, have classmates and friends, and because of my parents' work, I no longer live with my grandmother, but every time I go to see her, she will stay at her door and look around eagerly. Seeing me coming, she is always busy and frugal, and always cooks many dishes I like to eat. When she watched me eat, she complained that it was salty here and not spicy there. She just smiled, and her wrinkled face was bright. Watching, I became a little more sensible and gradually learned to praise her. She felt more and more that I must be living in famine outside or at home, so she told me to go to her place for dinner more often. When I left, I would put some money in her tightly locked drawer, sometimes worth more than half a month's salary. Unexpectedly, I still have such ulterior motives. Send me out, stand at the door for a long time and refuse to go in, and I will turn around if I don't come back. Once, maybe I was a little older. I looked at her and hugged her back. I feel that she is a little flustered, afraid that I will be unhappy. I held her for a few seconds, then pushed me away and muttered, "What should I do?" . I haven't seen the old-fashioned and traditional hug between her and grandpa. She bowed her head and wiped her eyes, complaining that there was sand in the wind. She turned back in a panic.
After a few years, I became more and more nervous about my study and went to see her less often. She knew the reason, but she became silent, and she was still happy to go again. Finally one day, after working hard all her life, she fell ill. Relatives and my family will take care of her. For work reasons, adults usually take turns. Sometimes she is not so punctual and waits quietly, without blaming anyone. Only when I go to her place after school will she compete with me for food, but I dare not ask her to do anything. It hurts to see her shivering when she gets up, and she will ask her what she likes to eat. She said with a trembling mouth, no need to buy it, as long as I cook it, she likes to eat it. Some lazy people, I remember that if there was Ciba in grandma's favorite dish, she would fry it. It was golden in color, with white sugar outside and tender inside, so I fed it to her while it was hot. She is very happy. She ate one or two and asked for more. I'm afraid she can't digest it and dare not feed it any more. She ate well and slept well that day. Looking at that bony face is serene and calm.
? After a while, her health became worse and worse, and I was busy with my studies. I'm a little far from school. Although I go every day, I don't have the patience to cook something for her. I just rely on my elders to arrange it for her. She couldn't eat much, so I just put up with it. Grandma doesn't know whether she doesn't like it or can't eat anything else. She just waited for my fried rice cake, and even if she only ate a small piece, she was satisfied and slept soundly. I remember in the last week of her life, she was eating my fried rice cake.
? I was still at school that day because I was always running around. At home, school and grandma's house, I am very tired and listless, listening to the teacher. Suddenly, the door of the classroom opened and my father stood there looking for me in a panic. I looked at him, feeling that the sky suddenly collapsed, my whole body was cold, my limbs were weak, and my heart was dead. I don't know how I ran home crazily, as if the wind was whistling in my ear. I don't know how I cried that day, and I was hoarse, as if the whole world had abandoned me. I only remember her lying there quietly, serene and serene, sleeping as if waiting for me to come back. It's just that my closed eyes can no longer see the Bazin I fried for her, and my slowly creeping mouth corner can no longer feel the sweetness of Bazin, which is full of wrinkles, and my thin face will never have that kind of shallow and satisfied smile again. I'll never have a chance to fry her again ...
? The moon is Baba, and there is a grandmother sitting inside. ...