My home is colorful and full of happiness, joy and warmth. That's the only place I miss.
Home-full of happiness.
If you ask me, what does home taste like? I will definitely answer without hesitation: "It is the taste of happiness." In my opinion, home is a glass box filled with colorful candy. Every candy tastes fragrant, sweet and greasy. Dad's candy is a sandwich chocolate candy, which is simple and hard in appearance, but cute as a child in heart; Mom's candy is a lollipop, and the hard shell is wrapped in a circle of fragrant coffee, but it is wrapped in a soft and delicious milk sandwich; Grandma's sugar is pure milk sugar, which always exudes a strong milk fragrance; My candy is fruit candy, sweet in taste, different in color and full of vitality. Every candy belongs to everyone in my family, and every candy has happiness and sweetness.
Home-contains deep affection.
At home, grandma never seems to stop talking. She has been nagging since early in the morning, but I can feel grandma's endless concern for me in that sentence by sentence. "It's cold this morning. Put on your long sleeves." "How to eat a little? Drink more soy milk. Soybean is very nutritious. By the way, milk should also be drunk, which is good for growth. " Although I can't stand it, every sentence is truth and advice. Grandma studied medicine before she retired, so she was particularly sensitive to the weather and changes in my body. Plus, when I was a child, I was often sick. She always made me wear this dress, and that dress always made me impatient. But if I don't listen, I can't stand it. Therefore, grandma has another mantra: "If you don't listen to the old man, you will suffer." It seems so.
My parents are also responsible for my study. Once, I met a math problem and racked my brains but couldn't figure it out. Mom is on a business trip and dad is on a business trip. What should I do? After thinking for a moment, I decided to call my father, so I dialed my father's mobile phone. The phone rang, and I told my father what had happened. Unfortunately, he is in a meeting. When I had no choice but to hang up, my father told me to wait. So he put down his mobile phone and turned to his colleague and said, "Excuse me, please wait a moment. My daughter has a difficult problem and needs my help. I must go there at once. " Dad didn't forget to be afraid of delaying my study when he was in the meeting. Am I not happy enough?
Home is a quiet harbor.
When I was very young, I had a naive idea that there must be Santa Claus in the world. No matter how my friends laugh at me, I firmly believe. Christmas is coming, and I am very excited. I am looking forward to receiving presents from Santa Claus on New Year's Eve. I have been asking my mother, and she said that as long as she is a good boy, she can accept gifts. If the next morning, I find a beautiful gift box under the bed. I excitedly told all my friends that they were envious. Later, I learned that these gifts were all from my mother. I didn't receive them in order not to disappoint me. Whether it's a gift from my mother or a gift from Santa Claus, I already feel very happy.
Home has excellent taste. Two homes are happy harbors. Here, everywhere is full of family care; Here, we enjoy a happy childhood and appreciate the taste of growth.
Home is sweet, and there are countless sweets here. One day, I took an exam at school, and the simplicity of the test paper got to my head, so I did it willy-nilly. I wanted to have a rough look at it, but I looked at it with my eyes and thought it was really unnecessary to look it up, because it was too simple, so I just sat and waited to hand it in.
The next day, I came to school with great interest, ready to get good grades on the test paper. Hehe, without the score of 100, 98 should be safe! I thought happily. However, when I came down, my head seemed to crack and my heart fell to the ground with a bang from a height! I looked at the test paper stupidly. God, it's only 79 points, the worst score in my history! I just think I'm covered in thorns. I can't even sit and stand. It seems that there are countless bugs biting me. I feel so sick that I can't wait to get under the table.
Going home with a nervous mood, I am thinking about how to deal with my mother, because with her temper, after seeing the test paper, the storm is coming soon. Don't scold me to death! When I gave her the test paper and just wanted to say some reasons, my mother told me not to say it. She asked me to describe the mentality of the exam realistically. Then he said to me meaningfully, "Do everything with your feet on the ground, and don't be careless, or you will regret it all your life." Be sure to form the good habit of writing carefully and checking carefully! "She also said, reflect on why is this score. This matter is over, don't think about it, forget it, what to do in the future is the most important thing! After listening to my mother's words, my original sad mood has gained a little sweetness! I feel like I've grown up all of a sudden!
It's sour at home: on a cold Saturday morning, I have to learn Olympic Mathematics, which is really too cold. I really don't want to leave the warm bed, let alone make up lessons! So I pretended to be asleep and didn't respond to my mother's call. When my mother saw it, regardless of my life and death, she decisively opened the quilt, and a cold air forced me to stamp my feet. She kept nagging me while forcing me to get up, saying that I didn't look like a man at all, knowing that I had to make up lessons and stay under the covers ... Will there be any future? Listening to her nagging like an old lady, my head is really big, so I have to get up reluctantly, or I will be beaten again! At that time, my heart immediately cooled.
Home is spicy, so spicy that people are worried. One day, I dragged my father downstairs to play tennis, but I was out of breath and didn't play for a few minutes. I said to my father, "I'm exhausted. Let's have a rest." But he said; "No, I was clamoring to fight, so it's no use insisting for such a short time. It's a continuation of a person under the scorching sun, and I'm finally firm! At this moment, I feel like a real little man!
At home, there are many smells, because these smells add up to a warm home, a home that makes me thrive and a home that makes me grow healthily. Home is happy, and it is precisely because of these bittersweet tastes that it will become happier and better!
After three days of cold, I barely put my head out of the warm bed and looked out of the window. It pulled down a gloomy and colorless face, just like I was about to scold a child who made a mistake. From time to time, the wind beat on the open window with his invisible hand, howling, and his heart was really cold. I simply tucked myself in and buried my whole head under the covers.
Soon, I was in a coma, sleepy, and vaguely heard a knock at the door, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, sometimes loud and sometimes quiet, without the slightest melody, which was really annoying. I grabbed my glasses and put them on. I got up and got out of bed. As soon as I turned out of the door, an understanding figure came into view, which was already awkward and stifled my invisible happiness. I walked slowly to her side, fearing that she would find that the knock was still ringing in her ear, but it became louder. It turned out that she was beating meat. I saw her waving briskly on the chopping block with double knives in her hands, and the meat was slowly beaten into a paste on the chopping block. At this time, on her right hand covered with minced meat, an inconspicuous band-aid caught my attention. It looks very broken, soaked in water, with black blood on it, as if it were a wanderer left on the beach at low tide. It was dim, but it caught my heart at once. I looked at her left arm carefully, and the scar seemed to be better.
I still remember that just a few months ago, that warm summer vacation, I heard that I would go to the factory to live 10 days as soon as I finished my exams. She called me with great interest and asked me what I wanted to eat, so that I could get ready. That night, she was just busy cooking for people. She rode a tricycle to the market to buy food. I don't know if she is too excited or the canteen is too slippery. She only heard the sound of a chair hitting the table and she slipped to the door. Her left arm was scratched by a rusty iron stool, and blood flowed down. At that time, she couldn't take care of the fish and shrimp that had fallen all over the floor. I quickly helped her back to the dormitory. But she insisted on cooking. I looked at it from the side and felt very painful. She ate a table of dishes that night, but I couldn't taste it. I don't know why. ...
The meat has been cooked and she is about to get up. I rushed back to my room, only to hear her say with a smile, how old I am, and I still have to hide from C. I was stunned and I laughed. I spit out a few words: Why did you come back today? She said faintly and unhappily, the factory has a power outage today and the workers don't go to work. Why ... don't you want me back? I wanted to say 10 thousand no in my heart, but in a flash, he was already frying meatballs in the kitchen. Soon, the fragrance came out with her. I saw her holding my favorite lion's head in her hand. I quickly took one with chopsticks and sent it to my mouth. Suddenly, I stopped and looked up at her. She stood smiling with a steaming plate in her hand, and we all stopped. I tugged at her skirt and asked her to sit down and enjoy it together. She agreed. I picked up a chopstick and handed it to her. She smiled and said, eat quickly, don't get cold. I bit her lips, and suddenly, all kinds of smells came to my mind. ...
That's because I'm too busy to go home.
This is a taste of hard work and little rest.
That's the smell of love that I think all the time.
She is my mother, a person who can't go home often because she runs a canteen, and a person who really loves me. ...
The taste of home is excellent. This is the taste of home. It will always be so unpretentious, not earth-shattering and unattractive. It's just the familiar look in memory, warm, faint, thick and mixed, which is an indelible mark in our lives.
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It has been three days since I was transferred from ICU ward. Life there was so hard and horrible that I felt as if I had been teased at the door of death. Finally, the terrifying still couldn't stand my sitcom and sent me back. I finally met my mother who missed her day and night. I just looked at it and cried. It's only been five days, and my mother has lost weight. Her big concave-convex eyes are bloodshot, her hair at the temples is crooked and messy, her cheekbones are prominent, and there is no trace of blood on her lips.
During my stay in hospital, my mother took good care of me and never mentioned my illness, but I felt my taste buds were deteriorating after eating the boiled food in the hospital cafeteria. Suddenly I miss jiaozi, who is stuffed with leek wrapped by my mother, and my father's specialty-sweet and sour pork ribs. "Want to eat my parents' cooking is not simple? Let you eat enough when you leave the hospital! " A smile finally appeared on my mother's face, which is precious to me. However, what my dear mother doesn't know is that what I really miss is not the taste of the food. Even if they cook in the dark, I will feel delicious. What I really miss is the love contained in the rice, the cautious happiness and the taste of my dream home!
Finally, I was discharged from the hospital. That day, my mother and I turned around several times before we got home. It is getting late. My father came to meet us at the station himself. I lay on my father's back, feeling the long-lost warmth. When I got home, everything I knew came into my eyes. I want to cry, but I can't. "Have a good rest first, and mom will make you something to eat." The kitchen is busy, and the pots and pans have issued a symphony that I am familiar with, which has brought me long-lost practicality.
I dragged my tired body close to the kitchen and watched my parents busy happily inside: my father's two calloused hands tossed and turned in a big bowl covered with flour, rubbing hard, so hard and so serious, just like primary school students preparing for the exam. Mom's good cooking is still online. I saw her wearing an apron and holding a big kitchen knife. A few crunches, ribs are all lying in the bowl. Mother took out soy sauce, vinegar, salt, etc. , and opened the oil pan. A small blue flame jumped up and the ribs were cooked. I only heard the sound of "squeaking", and the fresh fragrance of ribs floated into my nose. Still familiar with the technique, familiar with the taste!
"serve! Here we go. First meal after discharge! See how? " Dad looked at me eagerly. Braised eggplant, ribs with sauce, tomato and bean curd soup ... I just feel very satisfied when I look at the colorful things I like to eat all over the table. I can't wait to pick up chopsticks. I gulped down and swallowed, "delicious, delicious!" " I dare say that I have never eaten such an unforgettable meal since I was born, because it is not just a simple meal, it is a dish of love, and every point contains my parents' hope and deep love for me! At the same time, this is also the taste of my long-awaited home, as always simple, but with a warm touch. ...
My hometown was born by the lake, and most of our children grew up eating fish.
Everyone in the family must have some delicious fish dishes, and as the father of the "chef" in the family, I am best at and most fascinated by "braised crucian carp".
Every Friday after school, I walk in the door, and the fragrance floating out of the window will drive away my troubles for a week.
Father used to put the fish in a basin and pour it with a layer of hot oil. The oil sizzled on the fish, which made me keep swallowing. When eating, we have a habit of waiting until dad is present. This etiquette has never changed for more than ten years. Over time, I found that etiquette is not for my own dignity, but for the people who cook. This is also our most sincere respect for the father who provides delicious food for the family.
In a flash, many years have passed. Almost everything ages and decays with the laws of nature, only the calendar turns a new page every day. But in the undeniable changes, the only constant is the smell of "braised crucian carp", the sound of hot oil pouring on the fish and the etiquette that has become a habit.
When I leave home when I grow up, I always think of that familiar smell. Thirteen years old, I am in a rebellious period. I got on the train and went to live and study with my relatives. On the platform, my father always stuffed me with a box of braised fish he had prepared in advance. When the train started, I ate the braised fish in the box lunch and looked out of the window. Then he slowly turned around, and then his figure flashed by the car. In an instant, tears dripped from my eyes, and I chewed the fish mixed with tears, only thinking that it was the saltiest braised fish I had ever eaten.
However, in more memory, the braised fish cooked by my father is always slightly sweet. Sometimes, my father will ask me when I will go home in a video call, and he will cook my favorite braised crucian carp until I get home. I would say, "All right!" Then look at the calendar and silently calculate how long it will be before I go home. I think the reason why my boyhood is so long is that I am always waiting for time.
My father happened to be busy in the kitchen when I went home that time. I stepped forward gently and hugged him from behind. Stabbing people's hair made me notice that they were turning white. At dinner, I picked up a piece of fish with anticipation, then dipped it in delicious soup and put it in my mouth. But I found that the taste of "Braised Crucian Carp" cooked by my father seems to have changed, and the sweetness seems to be weak. "How is the taste weak ..." I asked casually. No one responded and finally ended this slightly regrettable dinner. Then one day, on the shelf in the kitchen. I didn't know my father had diabetes until I saw a big jar of "lignin sugar". Then, recalling my father's emaciated body and slowly flattened beer belly this year, I felt guilty spreading all over my body bit by bit, such as drowning in the pale and cold river, which made me regret my waywardness over the years.
For a moment, I finally understood that "braised crucian carp" brought me not only delicious food, but also the happiness of sitting around and enjoying the food, which was the sustenance of the family.
Countless nights, I dreamed that I came home from school, put down my schoolbag and sat at the table, enjoying my father's food and my mother's nagging.
I have a simple but warm, happy and romantic family.
According to personality characteristics, I have drawn up a kind and suitable taste for everyone in our family: father-thick chocolate flavor, mother-light vanilla flavor, and I-sour and sweet pineapple flavor, all of which are full of deep love and happiness. Dad is the pillar of our family. Besides writing and drawing, he also takes care of me and my mother every day. It's hard. In my heart, dad is my favorite fragrant chocolate and my favorite taste. Of course, there is another reason to define father as "fragrant chocolate". Another main reason is that my father's skin is as healthy, smooth and firm as chocolate, which my father is most proud of. With dad, our home is like cookies and cakes with chocolate. It's delicious! Our life is also full of healthy colors! My mother is virtuous and capable, and is recognized as a "strong woman" in our family. In addition to wires and aerial work at home, my father contracted and my mother did all the rough work, fine work, light work and tired work. As a woman, my mother is proficient in washing and cooking. Her cooking is no worse than that of a chef in a hotel. Even simple radish and cabbage can be turned into delicious food through my mother's hand, which makes me very happy and admire. Although my mother's dedication is dull and quiet, it can't hide my mother's dedication and endless love for me and my father. In addition to her ability, her mother is full of a refreshing and comfortable "faint vanilla flavor". So my father and I both say that my mother is the "vanilla" of our family.
. In our home, I am eating chocolate and smelling faint vanilla. I feel very comfortable, happy and extremely happy. Tell me more about me. I am a lively and lovely girl. My health and happiness is my mother's greatest wish, and my happiness and my achievements are my father's greatest pursuit. With the care and care of my parents, I grow sturdily day by day. At school, I am an honest and docile "sheep". At home, I am a "monkey king" who acts for heaven. As the saying goes, knowing a woman is nothing more than a father. In my father's eyes, I am a veritable "two-faced man". My mother calls me "the little princess with many faces". Of course, if I were a princess, I must have a princess temper. In front of my parents, I can fully display my "princess temper" with peace of mind. Sometimes I'm happy, sometimes I burst into tears. So I think I am the "sour and sweet pineapple flavor" of our family, which is of course the taste that children like. Although it is said that "you can't have your cake and eat it", everyone in our family is happy to have their own tastes.
My home is a "sweet cone" full of sweetness, happiness and happiness. I love my family, I love my parents, because my family is full of happiness.