You mustn't be like your father.

it is a necessary procedure to call my mother and listen to her criticize my father every time. According to my family practice, my mother first adds some embellishments to what my father has done wrong recently, and then solemnly warns me, "you mustn't be like your father." he is too stubborn, too hard, be a bit more general. " I remember that when I was a child, I accompanied my father in a meeting at work. Many things were going through procedures for enterprises in the system. My father himself was tired of such meetings. He held me in the back row to watch the History of World War II. 

The two men watched it with relish and couldn't take their eyes off. Then a leader turned a blind eye and asked my father to sum up his recent work. My father patted his buttocks and said, "I've been very free lately. I just drink tea and knock melon seeds." There was a circle of people covering their mouths and giggling. My father didn't understand the situation and looked around blankly. The leader frowned and asked, "Is there no specific work?" My dad got impatient: "what's the specific content?" The tea is from Longjing, and the melon seeds are fragrant. I've summed it up. " Is such a straight gut, everywhere to be a good person, but everywhere to offend people. I was very clingy to my father when I was a child. Once when he was on a business trip, I hugged his thigh and refused to let him go. He threw a bag of candy on the bed. I went to pick it up. 

As soon as I looked back and found that he was out of the house, I cried and ran after him with two snot on my face. I never caught up. At that time, the family didn't have much money, but my parents were both state-owned enterprises with security and occasional benefits. When it was time for the weekend holiday, he took me to the work warehouse to rub up free fruit. 

As soon as the master in charge of the warehouse opened the door, there was a basketful of apples and pears and so on. He opened a basket and put me in. I sat in the basket and threw it away. When I was tired of eating this basket, I changed it to another one. For example, monkeys in the peach orchard, some fruits will not eat after a bite, that luxury, Tuhao is very. When I left, I filled my pocket with all kinds of fruit, and when I got home, I took it all out and gave it to my mother. My mother held me in her arms and counted one fruit, two fruits, and tree fruits. At that time, there was nothing, but there was so much happiness and so much happiness. But for as long as I can remember, my father has had a bad temper, which may have something to do with his growing up. When my father was eighteen years old, my grandfather died. My uncle worked far away, and his second uncle was a soldier. My father is the third, eldest son in the family, and my grandmother pushes her life forward alone with several children. 

There are many things in front of the widow's door, and there are often people who bully our family. Someone else built a shed and occupied our yard, but my father tore it down, and the neighbor's punk snuck into our house to steal pigeons, and my father took it back with a pole after work. Such a counterattack method is wrong and irrational, but he may not be able to find a better solution at that time. He put up thorns all over his body, crawled awkwardly, and faced the bitterness of life angrily. He lived straight like a box of steel tape measures. Whoever asked him to bend, he would fly back to the box angrily, scratching the people around him from time to time. My mother sometimes hoped that he would watch his words and see the wind at his helm. In this way, he may also be able to make a difference in the enterprise, but after all these years, he still can't learn to flatter or flatter. Good is good, and if you don't like it, you don't like it. His joys and sorrows are all on his face, and he doesn't have the "sophistication" that a mature man should have. My father and I don't get along like father and son, but we are more like friends. 

I am always neither big nor small, and he doesn't care what kind of dignity his father should have. he likes to make fun of me. When I was in the fifth or sixth grade of primary school, I fell madly in love with comics, football, and novels. He has been at the bottom of the class for a long time. My mother dislikes me for holding a parent meeting, so she usually sends my father here. My father is also more comfortable with the scene. I came to take a look at the score of the last place on the report card, and then I casually put the report card in my pocket and went back to my mother for acceptance. Just once, there was a classmate who missed two subjects because of illness, and I was the second to last in the exam. My father came to the parents' meeting, looked at the penultimate, and found that it was not me, frowning, so he turned to the back of the report card to find his father. Don't you know that nothing is blank on the back of the report card you have received for so many years? The search failed and angrily asked, "where are you?" I answered in pain: "Dad, look at the second to last one."

 Dad turned around, frowned quickly, and read happily, "Oh, the unlucky kid caught one." My headteacher suffers internal injuries. In high school, my little girlfriend and I were pressed by my father as soon as we got out of school. I let the girl go home first and faced my father trembling alone. As a result, my father opened his mouth and asked, "what's your point of view?" Isn't she taller? Do you like this type? " The young boy in love ventured to retort: "I like her not because of the outside, you don't understand, we have different tastes." My father asked angrily, "do you know what my taste is?" A flash in my mind, calmly replied: "my mother that taste." My father seemed to be struck by lightning in an instant, and he was very serious all the way home. At that time, I was afraid that my father was waiting for his skills to cool down. As soon as I got home, the smell of vegetables came out of the kitchen. 

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My father smiled and made me hairy. He turned to me and said, yes, that's the smell. Of course, there are many times when I get beat up, for example, I stole urea from the fertilizer factory and spilled it in my aunt's vegetable garden. For example, my first reaction to breaking the neighbor's glass was to run away, I was beaten so many times when I was a teenager. These are things that can now be used to evaluate morality and personality. Now think about it. In my most rebellious era, he didn't care if I played video games. He gave me money on the Internet. He seldom asked about the exam results. Even puppy love, a rebellious thing like puppy love, he thought he could handle it leniently. But he never gives in to things that violate his principles of life. I don't know if this is his unique way of education or his attitude. But, of course, he doesn't know how such a free way of growing up made me who I am today. In so many years of free-range life, I grew up in my original state, and it is this freedom that allows me to be very fast in any strange environment. Blend in and spread your breath. It doesn't matter whether you call me ignorant or reckless.

 At least when I first tried to explore the world, my father didn't bind me too much because he was worried or worried about me too much. Later, I left home and integrated into college life. Although I was very close to home, I seldom went home. I keep my life watertight. I play music, dance, act in plays, and bravely try every new thing that I have never touched before. When I came home from the winter vacation as a freshman, I once ate hot pot at home. My father and I went shopping. When I walked, I walked a little faster. He followed me in a hurry and was out of breath. I deliberately slowed down, he stressed that he didn't sleep well last night. When we were almost near home, it suddenly began to rain, and my father began to quicken his pace and run home. I dared not overtake him all the time. I ran and he twisted his posture. 

Suddenly he looked back and shouted, "look, I'm not slow." I'm fine. " I suddenly felt my nose sore and I didn't know what to do. His aging was magnified at that moment, like a net, tied me up everywhere, I was reluctant to catch up with him, my feet were getting slower and slower, and my legs were getting softer and softer. I whispered Dad, you wait for me, don't walk so fast, but it was blown away by the wind, and it floated into my ears and turned into a cry. The departure of the wandering son after adulthood is like his father's long journey when he was a child. When he came back, the years and we all deserted a great deal. Before the age of 50, he was so meaningful that he dared to find fault with the whole world. After the age of fifty, he found that he needed to stop on the fifth floor to go up to the seventh floor in one breath. I remember him always standing tall, saying, "do you fucking believe I chopped you up?" I thought he was old, and time tamed him and his temper, but it wasn't. During my senior internship, I made some money. When I went back for his birthday during the holiday, I bought him a new pair of shoes. I didn't pay attention to it when I bought it. When I went back, I found that the soles of the shoes were a little worn, so he went to the shop assistant to change them. The clerk said that there was only one model left in this style, so I couldn't change it. 

If I wanted to change it, I could only exchange it for another style with the same price. He asked the clerk to be transferred from another store, but not from other places. The clerk thought it was troublesome and didn't want to transfer it. As he spoke, he quarreled with others, and the speculation was so fierce that it attracted a lot of onlookers. I rushed to the door of the shoe store gasping for breath, indiscriminately asked: "Is there anything you can't say at such an old age?" Why are you arguing with everyone? Do you still think this is our house, giving way to you? " He said in a loud voice, "I don't want any other styles. I want the one you bought for me. I'll take that one." I was stunned for a few seconds and coaxed him out like a child. Touching his temper, I said, "Dad, don't be angry, or I'll fill in some more money and buy a better one, okay?" The old man looked at me and said, "well, that's fine." Then make a good choice for me. " It seemed to be the first time I spent money on him. He was so serious that he showed a little childish. The shoes with a total of more than 500 yuan are still almost brand new. 

When I was going to work in the south, he didn't want me to go this far, but he still said, "you can go wherever you like, and no one cares about you." And then quietly stuffed thousands of yuan into my coat pocket. I kept the thousands of "life-saving money" sealed and kept it well, hoping that in the future I could double the thickness of this envelope and proudly return it to my father. But then I made an unexpected mistake and my budget overran and I had to spend this envelope. It was a terrible month. I nibbled on steamed buns and pickles and looked at the empty envelope my father gave me. I suddenly realized that when I thought I was fierce and wanted to open my sleeves to fight with the world, he had forgiven my childishness in this way. When I was in college, I had a part-time job and an internship. I thought it was a job and it was no big deal, but after I broke into the workplace, I found that this was not the case at all. In the past, because they were students, even if they did something wrong, they could use their identity as a shield, because there was a reason to be naive and rash, and there was a reason to take the comfort of the whole world and get out of it again and again. When you are young, you are easy to be complacent and get carried away. Need to be slapped by the world for a few months, to wake up a little bit, to look at their shortcomings and inertia. 

This unfolded envelope as if I had something to say, suddenly reminded me of something my father and I had said. He said to me, "A lonely person can be an individual or a flag." He said to me, "it takes a long time to do something before you can see the difference, and it's the same reason to like someone." He also told me, "people can't want everything. Asking for benevolence is a luxury." Losing it doesn't make you strong. What you have to do is understand why you lost it. " The sermons he gave me have repeatedly appeared in my mind in recent years and have been repeatedly demonstrated by reality. I know he doesn't like me living my third-tier life in this first-tier city, but he is still tidying up my bookshelves, polishing my trophies, and flipping through magazines with my words, calmly encouraging me to live the life I want. When I was very tired, I told him that I wanted to go for a walk. He said let's go. To see, to experience. There are many interesting things on the road. If you read them, you will understand. I remembered fiddling with his film camera when I was a child and watching him excitedly take stacks of paper photos out of the darkroom. He read to me according to the words in the book, "there is a lot of beauty and happiness hidden in many corners of the world." you have to get it yourself, others can't give it to you, what you need is hard work, sweat, and time. " I once saw a TV series called "the years of Burning Passion", in which there was an old man named Shi Guangrong. 

I feel very much like my father, bad-tempered, overbearing, and unreasonable. It made his wife quarrel with him all his life, and the three children didn't get any peace. I pointed to Shi Guangrong on TV and said to my mother, "do you look like my father?" My mother said, "it doesn't matter whether he's like me or not. You mustn't be like your father." My father has a lot of shortcomings. He is grumpy, drunken, drunk, and crazy when he is drunk. He is also very lazy. He doesn't know how to wash and cook, and he doesn't do anything wrong. If you don't admit it, you'll save face. He was not happy in his life, but he did not entrust so much pressure to me, did not expect me to be rich and honored, and did not regard me as a Jedi counterattack in his life. He doesn't care what kind of university I take, what kind of job I do, which city I live in, and what kind of girl I like. He just wants me to be a good person and be happy and happy. I don't smoke and I don't like drinking. Even if I drink, I don't like pulling people around, but find a place to dig a hole and make my own Rest. Everyone has different ways to relieve stress. I like more plants at home, more books, quiet, and an old record player with a pot of tea. But I am really like my father, I am also very stubborn, but also straight, because I believe in a thing or a person, hold my head high and challenge life, but I am more like myself, I am his continuation, but not a copy. 

My father is 55 years old this year. He has gone through most of his life. He has suffered a lot because of his honesty. But he would still take the initiative to repair the light bulb in the corridor, push a garbage cart for the sanitation workers on the road, and look at my mother with disdain next to the crowd dancing in the square, but with a smile. He still can not speak soft words, can not express his feelings, hiss, and cold-warm to the mouth and swallow back, a greeting, into the details of life. From time to time, he is eager to send you something. If you don't call him, he will run to charge you some phone bill to remind you. But he is still arrogant, likes to tease you, is sarcastic, but can not help but want to know all your news. Today, when I called him on Father's Day, he asked me about the manuscript. My father: "I hear you are preparing manuscripts?" Me: "Yes, why?" My dad: "did you write about me?" Me: "No, do you want me to write about you?" My dad: "No, but don't write it. You can't write it well either." Me: "Hey, can't you encourage me a little bit?" My father: "all right, son, write well and quickly, the toilet at the head of the village is out of paper." Me, I knew it.