Childhood composition for the first grade of junior high school (1)

There are many interesting things in everyone’s childhood, and I am certainly no exception. Now I will tell you one that happened to me. An interesting thing from childhood.

It was a hot summer, and I was playing at my grandma’s house. My grandma lived in the countryside and she raised a lot of chickens. One day, my grandma, uncle, and grandpa went out to play and left me alone at home. I was very angry and thought to myself, why are they doing this and not taking me with them when they go out. I had nothing to do in the house, so I wanted to go to the chicken coop and see what the chickens were doing. As soon as I entered, I heard a "bang" sound, and a hen laid an egg. It was so fun. I touched the egg curiously. Hey, it was hot and wet. This is when an idea popped up. I thought to myself, if chickens can lay eggs, then all the chickens in the henhouse will definitely lay eggs. Why don't you dig out the eggs? When my grandma came back and saw so many eggs, she didn't praise me, so she might even reward me for digging out the eggs! After thinking about it, I didn’t care, so I grabbed a chicken and dug it out. The chicken seemed to know its fate and flapped its wings vigorously, trying to escape. As for me, I held on to the chicken’s claws and watched. Is it that it's great or that I'm great? I took it out for a long time but didn't take it out. What's going on? Why can't I take it out? Is it so difficult that my reward is gone? I didn’t believe it. If I couldn’t take out this one, I had to take out the other one. I threw the chicken away and went to catch other chickens. When those chickens saw me coming, they jumped up and down one by one, just like a mouse seeing a cat. , I ran away, but I didn’t let go and kept catching the chicken. No, I almost turned into a chicken in less than half an hour. I finally caught a chicken, so I picked it out. The chicken I picked out screamed, but I didn't take it out. I caught another one... The chicken I picked out was frothing, and I... Grandma and the others came back, and when they saw my embarrassment, they couldn't help laughing. When I asked why, grandma not only didn't praise me, but also gave me a scolding. Later, I found out that except for the hen in the hen house, the rest of the chickens It's all cock.

This is an interesting thing in my childhood. It is not only fun, but also always warns me: stealing chicken is not gaining a handful of rice, and never do things with good intentions.

Childhood composition for the first grade of junior high school (2)

Childhood is like a poem, full of innocence and loveliness. Childhood is like a painting, full of purity and innocence. Childhood is like a bottle of water, translucent and free.

I still remember when I was a child, I used if... then... to make sentences: If someone hits me once, I will hit them twice. The teacher gave me a big exclamation mark.

I also remember that the teacher asked us to make a sentence using windows, and my mother guided me and said: "The eyes are the windows to the soul." But I retorted: "Why? Can the eyes express what is in the heart? Only the mouth Only then can I express it." So, I wrote in my homework book: "The mouth is the window to the soul."

I once wrote an essay about my ideal. I was worried about what my ideal is. My father guided me and said: "When you grow up, do you want to be a doctor and wear a doctorate hat?" "No." I replied resolutely: "The doctor's hat is not as good-looking as my sun hat!" Maybe, when I was a child, I just wanted to be a happy person. No wonder adults like to recall their childhood, a time without any utilitarian color. It was a paradise that adults could not intervene in.

Another time, the teacher asked us to do quantifier training, and I resolutely wrote: "A beetle, an ant." Then, I showed it to my father, who asked me sternly why I wrote it like this. Silently, I picked up my homework and ran back to the room...

Speaking of this, I couldn't help but think of Xixi. Xixi is a Hong Kong female writer with a childlike innocence. She wrote an extremely interesting poem. Poem: "Can I say it?" Can I say, a piece of cabbage, a piece of egg, a piece of pepper? Can we say, a lemon, a pair of sailors, a meal of ice cream, a look of Ovaltine? Can we say, an umbrella, a bouquet of snowflakes, a bottle of milky way, a gourd of the universe? Can we say that longan is auspicious and long live dragon beard candy!

The past events of childhood are vividly visible, beautiful and happy!

I am now twelve years old, and my childhood is about to pass away.

Childhood Composition (3)

What a beautiful word "childhood"! We all have childhood.

Childhood is like waves, crystal clear; childhood is like dazzling pearls on the golden beach; childhood is like stars blinking in the dark night... Childhood is colorful and has many beautiful and precious memories. Among these memories, some are unforgettable, some are sad, some are happy, some are depressed, and some are funny.

I remember one time, my mother bought me a comic book, (m.taiks.com) I clamored and asked my father to buy me a book cover. Dad agreed and bought it for me the next day. ah! The book cover is so beautiful, with "Mickey Mouse" printed on it, I can't put it down. However, what should I do if the book cover wrinkles after being stored for a long time and I want to flatten it?

One day, I saw my mother taking the iron and ironing my father's trousers, making them as flat as new ones. I suddenly thought of my beloved book cover and wanted my mother to iron it for me. Someone happened to call my mother, and my mother went out to talk to that person. I waited for a while, got impatient, and had to do it myself. I first smoothed the book cover with a wet towel, and then picked up the iron. Hey, it was quite heavy, but for my beloved book cover, I couldn't wait to iron it. When I picked it up and looked at it, I saw a big hole in the book cover and Mickey Mouse was gone. So I cried and called my mother over. My mother hurriedly asked me: "What's wrong?" I cried and said: "The iron... made... Mickey Mouse... disappear..." My mother smiled and said: "Silly. "Child, Mickey Mouse is made of plastic, won't it melt when you heat it with an iron?" I stopped crying after hearing what my mother said.

Childhood is beautiful, childhood is like a cup of strong coffee, which warms your heart; childhood is like a cup of light tea, which makes you reminisce; childhood is like a stormy rainbow; it is colorful and dazzling; childhood is also Like the afterglow after the sunset, it is so nostalgic...

Remember your childhood, and hide this innocent and immature memory that will never grow up deeply in your heart. That place called "innocence".