My Altman father

My father is a soldier. After leaving the army, he carried a gun, stood on a post and climbed over a telephone pole. He was also a celebrity when he was young. Of course, these are also from my mother. My mother always likes to show me photos of my father when he was young, and while watching them, she enthusiastically talks about my father's heroic age that has long passed away. I secretly laugh every time I listen to it, because I really can't connect my father who was omnipotent like Altman at that time with his father who is a little bald now, with a crack in his eye and two missing teeth. Is he an old monster now? Alas, time and tide wait for no man, only sighing that time flies. Whenever I question him, he will give a thumbs up, pat his stomach and say loudly, "I remember that year ... Lao Zi ...". So he started talking and talked to me all night.

My father didn't accompany me through my whole childhood. Before the sixth grade of primary school, I grew up with the care of my grandmother and the love of my uncles. At that time, I felt that I was also an advocate of mala Tang. For a moment, I was spoiled and willful, and felt that the whole world needed to listen to my command, so I was domineering. The good times didn't last long. These days disappeared completely from the day my parents took me home. Since then, I have embarked on a road that has no good life. To tell the truth, I was a little scared of my dad. In my memory as thin as air, my father didn't talk much, and I was afraid to get along with him. He caught a glimpse of the bad habits I developed as a child. Then those habits that I thought were nothing said goodbye to me. Since then, Xiao He has become a passerby. Never drop a grain of rice when eating, because he will let me eat it, even if it falls on the ground. I never dare to rub my shoes on the ground and make a noise when I walk, because he will yell at me loudly. All the bad habits are changing quietly. As he grew up and I grew up.

? Slowly, I began to enter the rebellious period of youth. In those days, apart from squeezing acne on my face on time every day, the most common thing was quarreling with him. The content of the quarrel is endless, and sometimes a piece of news can make us blush. I called him an old monster, and he called me a dead boy. At that time, my mother was always Lacrimosa, wondering how to marry such a husband and give birth to such an ignorant daughter. No way, when adolescence reaches menopause, such a chemical reaction will occur.

? It seems that my father, who runs through my whole youth, left me the impression that he would never play with his children like other fathers, nor could he bear to teach them how to be a man. We hardly took a group photo, the only one was a family photo of grandma's 60th birthday. When the war was full of smoke, I always accused him of caring too little about me. He ignored me and turned out of my sight.

He doesn't care about my school. Sometimes I take out my homework and ask him to sign it, and he will accuse me mercilessly. This word is too ugly. Sometimes I will happily take out my own composition praised by the teacher and read it to him. Just in the middle of reading, my father would shake his head and sigh that this level can still be commended. The second year of high school dropped sharply. When eating, he is always nagging. If you can't get into college, go to a junior college. I won't pay you to read three books. You're not ashamed. I don't think so. At that time, I had developed a brazen and rough-skinned skill, and I wouldn't take anything he said to heart. Just thinking, hurry up the college entrance examination. I will fly away after the exam, and I will be free.

? In fact, my dad is partial, who let me be his own, and he will give me some face anyway. When I was a child, I liked to write. My father always bought me all kinds of beautiful notebooks. At that time, there was a Hello Kitty notebook, which was a series version. When my father knows that I like it, he will buy one a day until he buys the whole set of Quan Yi. Dad's cooking is delicious, and he always cooks for me in different ways, all kinds of big fish and meat, as well as raw seafood. My father won't worry about eating until I grow up to be a little fat, and my mother can't stand accusing me of losing weight. My dad will stand up and forgive me, saying that it doesn't matter. When I was a child, I ate more. When I grow up, I have strength. No one dares to bully me. Father likes fishing. For a while, I always went fishing with him. Then he went fishing, and I squinted in the sun. At that time, the sky was always particularly blue, and I felt particularly comfortable and safe around my father.

? I know, in fact, he is just stubborn and soft-hearted. At first, he failed in the college entrance examination. I started searching universities on the Internet. My father stopped me and said that I would be an undergraduate anyway. He believes that I won't let him down. Then I hugged him and cried. He called me a loser and then wiped my tears and nose until I looked at him. At the end of the college entrance examination, I was full of bitterness and spoke at my student banquet for more than ten minutes. Speaking of thanking my father, I looked back at him. His eyes were full of tears. Well, he later explained to me that he was yawning. Really, after all these years, he is still a dead duck with a hard mouth. When will this problem change? When I was ready to embark on the journey, my father sent me to the station. Before I checked in, he put down my luggage and said, "Just leave it here. He wants to go home and get some sleep. " I am so angry and want to laugh. What's the matter? Can't you just watch me stop and go? Later, I heard from my mother that my father lost his voice as soon as he got home, and then he ran to my cabin and stayed alone for a long time.

? When a person goes to college, he always feels very free at first, then he feels homesick when he is bored, and then he calls home. I can always talk to my mother for more than two hours, and I don't know what to say after talking to my father for one minute. It's been more than three years, and he didn't take the initiative to call me. But I just know that when I chat with my mother, she will sit there and listen to me, and then hold a calendar every day to calculate when I will come back. Before going home in winter and summer vacation, he would get up at three or four in the morning, give me stew and make my favorite canned food. Watch the weather forecast in Shijiazhuang every day, and then ask my mother to give me a bad weather warning. On the other end of the phone, I listened to my mother tell me all this, and then my eyes got wet. My mother said that when I am not at home, my father always talks big with my friends. How sensible my daughter is! When you grow up, you can be filial and often send meals to your family. I used to buy him clothes on Father's Day, and he would wear them for many days. At this age, I still can't change this old habit of showing off.

? I remember that in my sophomore year, my father fell, broke his leg and hurt his brain. He went to the hospital for surgery overnight, and the whole family cheated me. I didn't know these things until I came home that summer and saw my scrawny father lying in bed. Then I began to cry with my father, and my father cried with me. That time was the hardest time for me. My father hurts my brain. Sometimes he knows me, sometimes he doesn't. When my mother was working, I began to learn to cook. No matter how bad it is, my father says it's delicious. Then she cried that her daughter had grown up. Wash your father's feet, he will cry. Exercise with him, and he cries. I finally took time out to play with my friends, and my father would call me and cry me back. At that time, he would only remember my mobile phone number and copy it on his back every day. I can't help it. People who have injured nerves have lacrimal gland development. Although those days were bitter, they gave my truest father, who shed tears for more than 40 years. At that time, he was like a child. I called him a dead old man and didn't eat well. I don't want to cut you. He would pout and squeeze out tears. I apologized distressfully, and he began to laugh, as if to say, I did it on purpose. Do you still mean me?

? Now that my father has recovered, he has returned to his old style. He gives me lectures from time to time and boasts about his past from time to time. I will listen carefully for fear of missing every detail of his story. Because I just know that even if the years are old, the past is gone. Just keep this warmth in your heart and let these things be buried deep in your heart, so that you can be a father and daughter who are hard-spoken and soft-hearted quietly.

? He never talks about great things, but I have learned a lot from him over the years. His forbearance, his silence, his vitriol, his heart of stone, his silent devotion to me, like running water, have already flowed into the blood and penetrated into the bone marrow. He wants me to grow up independently and not depend on anyone. He wants me to have a sound personality and perfect quality. In fact, for me, he is as heavy as a mountain, and there are delicate traces in his depths.

? Maybe we are not the kind of people who are keen on expressing love, and often the words come to our lips and taste bad when we say them. But time is the best witness, and it will prove everything. Because of fate, I just want to be my father's daughter in the next life, and then I will go fishing with him every day. He fishes silently, and I hide in the sun.

? What about this life? Please slow down. Give this stubborn old man more time and love this family.

P.S. was chatting with my mother a while ago, and she told me that my father was nagging me again about when I would go home, and whether it was time for a holiday again. Mom said that I have a postgraduate course here and I can only stay at home for more than a week. Then my father fell into depression again, and silently arranged recipes for me at home for more than a week. Hey, I'm speechless, this dead old man. Are you going to eat me back to fat? !