My parents were not at home that day, and I wanted to give them a surprise. I made cold dishes first. I'll mash garlic. I'll pound it. Hey! I cann't believe it ran to the side I stabbed it back to its original position, aimed slowly and hit one. I dried the unfortunate garlic cloves and beat the rest. They seem to want to avenge their dead brother and spill garlic juice in my eyes. I washed it quickly. After a few minutes of fighting, I won. I cut cucumbers again, which is easy to handle. Mix them together when cutting, pour vinegar on them, and the cold dish will be ready.
It's time to cook hot dishes. When I turned on the gas, I lit a lamp. Why can't you hit it? What a strong smell of gas. I quickly turned it off and opened the doors and windows. Well, I got off to a bad start. After a while, I called again. That's great. I hit it. I quickly poured the oil in, and "pa" an oil spot splashed on my hand. I screamed with pain. I look almost finished. It's time to cut the sausage. I chopped it up in order to fry it thoroughly. After a few minutes, it will be out of the pot. I turned off the fire, put the pepper and cumin evenly on each stick and inserted it with a toothpick. In this way, the hot dish is ready.
Mom and dad came back, tasted my cooking, said I did well, and said I grew up.
Hope to adopt