When I got home with my daughter, it was already noon, and it seemed like a whole day had passed in a hurry.

When I opened the door, my mother saw the white hood on her daughter's head, and she was so frightened that she burst out, "God, what's going on?!" I was already very tired, so I didn't answer immediately, so I took out my slippers in the shoe cabinet at the door and put them on, and lay down directly on the sofa in the living room.

"Grandma, my head is bleeding!" The daughter, who had been dozing all the way, saw her grandmother and suddenly became energetic again, and talked about what happened in the kindergarten and the hospital, but it sounded a little confused.

The mother didn't know if she understood the cause and effect, she was distressed, and she was so angry that she didn't know what to do, and complained without a word, "Why doesn't the kindergarten teacher take a good look at you?!, the doctor really is!" and then picked up her daughter, and there was a series of "Does it still hurt? Did you cry? Did your father know? Be careful with the children in the future......" As she spoke, her eyes were already red.

Two people, one old and one young, you and I say a word, cry for a while, laugh for a while.

My mother has always loved her children, she is in her 60s, and as long as the child shouts tired, she will immediately hold it in her arms, in her words, "I am afraid that the child will be tired and hurt and grow slowly." "At home, I rotate around the kitchen and laundry room every day, for fear that my children will not eat well and dress uncleanly. Remind her not to be so tired, she doesn't care, just say, "You're fine, I'll be happy." ”

"Mom, it's okay, I've seen the doctor, the wound has been stitched up, don't worry. Her dad didn't know yet, so let's wait until the evening to get off work and tell him, it's useless to have one more person. "I reported the general situation to my mother next to me, and I couldn't stand it. "Next, I have to change the dressing every day, I will be at home, remember to cook lightly, I can't bathe her, and I can't let her exercise vigorously. By the way, explain the precautions to her clearly.

"Okay, got it. Mom listened intently. "I haven't eaten at noon, I'll make you hand-rolled noodles. With that, my mother went into the kitchen.

"Okay!" the daughter clapped her little hands happily, and after crying for a long time in the morning, she finally became happy.

"You little guy playing, I don't know grandma will be tired of rolling noodles. I said angrily, turned to the kitchen and shouted, "Mom, don't roll it, just do whatever you want." ”

"It's okay, it'll be fine in a while, you two can wait for the meal to start with peace of mind. "The sound of noodles was already coming from the kitchen.

My daughter ignored my words and playfully stuck out her tongue. Thinking of her pity today, I didn't say anything more.

"Come here, lie down and sleep with Mommy, baby. I patted the back of the couch and said to her. My daughter came over, climbed up, and then lay on top of me, with her head resting on my chest. Her liking for this is basically based on two situations: when she is coquettish or unhappy, this complete closeness and intimacy may bring her some kind of inner compensation and comfort. And today, she really resembles a wounded bird, and I have to make my wings bigger and give her the safest protection. Maybe that's what mom means, I thought......

"Lan Lan, Lan Lan ......" someone seemed to call me, and then a hand was gently pulling at my clothes. Startled by the sound and movement, I slowly opened my heavy eyelids, "Mom, it's you!" I yawned and slouched.

"You've been asleep for a while, and the meal was ready just now, so I didn't call you when I saw that you slept soundly. At this time, if I don't call you again, the noodles will be completely lumpy, and they have already been heated just now, and they can't be heated anymore. As my mother spoke, a large bowl of noodles was served to me, and white smoke was coming from it.

"I've slept for so long, I don't even know it. But I didn't seem to be hungry yet, and I didn't want to eat. I said apologetically.

"Eat a little, I've been running all morning, you're stuck in your heart, so I don't feel it. Come, take a bite. I put a lot of sesame oil, you don't smell it. As she spoke, my mother took a pair of chopsticks and brought it to my mouth, putting the whole bowl to my nose.

"Mom, I'm here myself, I'm not a child anymore. I pushed her hand away.

"You, how old you are, I'm a child. You see that you are so tired today, you fell asleep as soon as you touched the sofa, and you slept very deeply, and you didn't feel it when I called you. Mom muttered distressedly.

"Okay, I'll eat, okay. Wake up Chenchen too, and rest after eating. I sat up with my hands on the couch and turned my daughter over. She had always been very clever, and as soon as she noticed my movements, she opened her eyes, because she was still a little confused, and her two little hands rubbed together on her eyes.

"Well, wake up, grandma's noodles have been ready for a long time, let's eat some. We'll rest when we're done eating. As soon as she finished speaking, my mother had already brought another bowl over.

"Mom, wait for me to go to Sheng, don't run back and forth. I quickly said and took it.

"I'm not tired, it's fine. I hope my family will get better soon. "My mother moved a small bench and sat down next to me and watched us eat.

"It's delicious, grandma, you're going to cook it for me in the future, okay?" The daughter ate and didn't forget the request for the next meal.

Mom said yes while laughing loudly and saying several good words.

As I ate today's noodles in my mouth, I suddenly felt as if the noodles in this bowl were all the taste of my childhood. At that time, the family was poor, and many families could not eat white masks, but my father was enthusiastic and cheerful, and he did a good job, plus my father had some knowledge, and my mother planted the crops in the family well, so although there was not much left after handing over the grain, I could always eat white noodles.

Mom's favorite thing to make at that time was noodles, and it was soup noodles, because although we can have white noodles to eat, but after all, they are not abundant, and noodles can be made into a big pot of rice with a small amount of noodles, and then paired with some wild vegetables or a few chopped green vegetables or something, a meal can be solved very well and deliciously.

To make noodles, you need to have tools, and the most important thing is to prepare three things, one is the "cutting board", which is now called the cutting board, which is larger than ordinary chopping boards, and the second is the rolling stick, and then the knife.

At that time, my father built the kitchen with stones one by one, because he didn't have the money to buy beautiful bricks, put wooden beams on them, and then spread a layer of black felt paper, and then a layer of gray cement tiles on the outside of the felt paper, and the walls in the house were not painted with paint, at most a layer of cement. In such a kitchen, there is a rectangular table made of willow boards that my parents have worked so hard to find, and then the rough surface is polished and smoothed. My mother cherished it very much, because at that time, in addition to trying my luck, I had to spend money to buy the right willow panel, and my parents had no money to buy it, so I was lucky at that time.

Every time my mother finished using it, she would sweep the flour residue on it, and every ten days and half a month, she would carry it to the well and wash it thoroughly, and then take advantage of the strong sunlight to dry it well.

On this "board", a lump of noodles becomes larger and larger with the back and forth rolling of the mother's rolling pin, turning into a round dough sheet, and then the mother will use the rolling pin to pick up the dough sheet, grab the flour, sprinkle it evenly on it, and then use the rolling pin to roll the whole circle tightly, and continue to roll back and forth vigorously, sometimes when pulling back, she will deliberately slam the rolling pin on the board to stand hard, simply neat. What I like to watch the most is that the dough sheet is getting thinner and thinner, the whole circle is getting bigger and bigger, and the surface is getting smoother and smoother, until finally it quickly turns into a long line of thick and thin, wide and narrow under my mother's knife, and then it keeps tumbling in the pot of boiling water to become a meal in our mouths. Sometimes he is naughty, and he will take advantage of his mother's inattention to steal one out to play.

Every time I get out of school and hear that familiar thud, I know it's my mom in the kitchen and we have noodles to eat again. Smelling the familiar sweet smell of flour, my heart is extra warm and steady.

Later, after graduation, I left my hometown and tried to make noodles like my mother, but I couldn't make that taste.