A sentence goes over and over again, often repeating a little thing four or five times, and telling it to everyone.
Im a little impatient occasionally, especially when I have a lot of work on hand, she drives me crazy when she tells me that a fruit stall owner has collected fifty cents more than once.
Only my son is not bothered.
Grandma to him is the most lovely person in the world.
Fruit stall owners charge 50 cents more, which is not worth mentioning to me. For my son, thats a big new thing.
He would seriously confirm with his grandmother, did the stall owner really charge fifty cents more?
Then he racked his brains to come up with an idea: lets get it back tomorrow!
The next day I still remember: grandma, today we are going to get fifty cents back!
Another example is spreading cakes.
When my mother was young, she liked to spread cakes. My sister and I were growing up and eating happily, three or four at a time. But now the metabolism is slow. If you eat a little greasy food, you will feel sick for half a day in your stomach, and your living conditions are good. If you eat one more piece of cake, you will feel nervous.
So my mothers cake always sold poorly and was ignored.
Until my son reached the age of eating pancakes - the pancakes made by grandma are the best in the world. They are fragrant, crispy, better than rice, better than porridge, better than noodles
In my mothers eyes, there was a flash of brilliance. The feeling of being recognized, encouraged and taken seriously seemed to live again. It was like my sister and I were still young. It was like we were willing to listen to her carefully. It was like we would cheer for a piece of cake
Because of my son, my mother is young again.
So, in a sense, the child has taken on part of the duty of filial piety for me - something I cant be interested in, something hes interested in. I dont want to eat. He likes it.
Even my lack of company and attention, the children make up for me.
If we invite the elderly to bring the children, we will ultimately participate not only in the childrens carefree childhood, but also in the elderlys anxious old age.
This is the truth that I only realized in the past two years. Often hear friends complain, the old man to take the children how to make heaven and earth, try to win attention, or even a word on the spiteful, funny.
The old mans mind and nature are similar to the childrens.
In the face of these old popularity, there is no way to be a child. You can neither speak nor speak. With a little emphasis on tone, the old mans mentality will collapse. Then there will be a deeper disaster: do you think I am old and tired? Ill go back home tomorrow!
I dont believe you to observe. No matter how irascible, difficult or stubborn the old man is, in front of his grandchildren and granddaughters, hes all dressed up to be obedient, so that he cant go east or west, or eat or drink water
There is a set of communication system between the old and the children. This set of dialogue system is hard to understand for you and me in your prime. For example, who cares about the fifty cents that fruit stall owners charge more? But children care. Children and old people, in many scenes, can speak to each other closely.
Life is so magical, a wonderful circle, the difference between the two generations of people pa together.
When I was young, I didnt understand why every old man wanted to bring his grandson.
Until I saw my mother with her children.
Grandma is too good.
You will not know that the old man has not heard it for many years.
Many years ago, she was labeled clumsy by the society. She cant use electronic products and cant understand the fashionable terms on the Internet. Even if she asks more questions when shopping on the street, she will be robbed of a meal by the shopping guide: grandma, dont ask if you dont buy...
She knew nothing in the eyes of society, but in her grandsons place, grandma is so powerful!
In those days and nights with children, the old mans life has been continued and burned, and even has a little taste of returning to youth.
If you understand this, maybe you can understand why old people like to bring their grandchildren.
If society cant give TA, grandchildren can give TA; if children cant, grandchildren can still give TA.
Children are angels, containing everything that adults have no patience to tolerate.
Children are naive, lively and speechless.
Its like jumping stones into our already peaceful heart lake.
In fact, its hard for people to have any new feelings and opinions about the world when they are in their thirties. But with children, we cant help but recognize the world again with their eyes.
I cant forget every time I take my baby back to my parents in law.
A Tai is very old. She doesnt go out at ordinary times. But every time she goes home, she will go to meet her at the first time. She Stoops and stands at the door waiting and watching.
The second uncle always likes to tease Gugu. Sitting at the door, he smoked cigarettes and called his name: Gugu, who is calling you...
There are also parents in law, children to play, they play, children laugh, they also laugh
The picture of four old people around a child often makes me very sad. We really dont know anything about aging. That longing for life, at least at our age, is too hard to understand.
Those duties that I have no time or cant fulfill are completed by my children. The problem that the most elite people in the whole society cant solve is that children give the answer.
We know nothing about aging, and we know nothing about children.
But the child inadvertently completed the dialogue between life and life.
Now I am thirty years old. I am not crazy or arrogant. I can no longer say that the old should have their own world. What kind of world do the old people have? Their joints hurt when they walk two steps, and their life is short when they fall. Where can they go?
The tour groups do not accept the elderly over 60 years old, and the amusement park has slightly stimulating projects, and the elderly are not allowed to enter. Their world, only two legs as big, legs and feet good, can walk to the old peoples fitness center on the street, and dance square dance with their peers. Legs and feet are not good, sitting at home, on the balcony, looking at the sky, one look is one day.
I often see those old people in my hometown, sitting at the door, basking in the sun. They stay still all day.
Fortunately, there was a child running by at this time. His young hands were open. Inside was a flower: Grandpa, here you are.