I have a lovely younger brother who was born when I was eight years old. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

When my parents took me to the nursery of the hospital, I saw the little guy through the incubator.

I happily asked my mom if he would be able to play with me in the future, and I would give him all my toys.

My mother just wiped her tears and told me that something was wrong when she gave birth to her younger brother.

I probably won't be able to see my brother very early, and I would have to see through a glass cover until then.

My brother couldn't go home and had to stay in the hospital for a long time.

I later learned that my mother gave birth to me because she gave birth to me naturally.

So when I gave birth to my younger brother, I still chose to give birth naturally, but it took a little longer.

The umbilical cord unfortunately wrapped around his neck, and it took a lot of effort to save his brother anyway.

I often ask my parents what about my brother?

My parents never told me.

They also used to hide in their rooms and talk about their younger brother.

Every time I say that my mother cries loudly, it will end.

We also visit my brother in the hospital a few days a month, and he lies peacefully in the incubator every day.

My brother was always asleep and rarely opened his eyes.

But he likes to giggle at me when he's sober, and I like to make faces at him.

Whenever this happens, I ask my mom when my brother will be able to come home.

My mom always told me that my brother would be back soon.

But year after year.

It wasn't until I was in the fourth grade, at the end of that year.

Mom and Dad finally took my brother home, and this was the first time my brother came home.

My mother smiled and told me why I didn't play with my brother.

And I noticed a little problem, my brother kept smiling at me.

He also giggled at everything, looking very sluggish.

I told my mom if my brother was stupid or stupid.

I remember being slapped by my mother that day, and it hurt so badly.

It was the first time my mom hit me, and it was the last time I can remember.

I was in the fifth grade and my grades were always in the top three of my class.

And my brother can talk.

The first name he called out was not Mom and Dad, but my brother who I taught him.

He was so happy, I knew he liked me.

While the other kids were running downstairs, I liked to play with plastic toys with my brother.

Although these are my old toys, the proudest time I am when I say to my brother, "My brother gave you this toy." ”

And the younger brother will hide under his bed very preciously until it is full.

Most of the time my brother and I are happy, but it's different when our relatives come.

They always say things that I shouldn't play with my brother.

So a smart kid can't be influenced by a fool or something.

They think I'm ignorant, but I know better than anyone else.

My brother may be a little silly, but I like him.

He also likes me, so I hate those relatives very much.

Of course, I also hated going to school a little bit, because my brother couldn't go to school.

Every day when I go to school, my brother cries so much.

I remember the teacher asking us every year what we wanted to do when we grew up.

The year before last I said I wanted to be a chef so I could cook food for my brother.

Last year I said I wanted to be a police officer so I could protect my brother.

This year I said I wanted to be a doctor so that I could cure my brother's illness.

I was 13 years old and in the first year of junior high school, but my younger brother didn't go to kindergarten when he was 5 years old.

Mom said that kindergarten might not be suitable for my younger brother, and I thought about it.

I didn't like kindergarten before because I cried all the time when I went to kindergarten.

My brother loves to cry so much, I guess he'll cry more than me.

Mom quit her job early to stay at home with her younger brother and began to teach him to write and draw.

After I came back, I also started to teach my younger brother Chinese and mathematics, but my younger brother didn't like to study.

I tried to coax him, almost all of my toys out.

But it doesn't work very well, and my brother's comprehension is very poor.

Some simple things may take several times to remember.

And remember today and ask tomorrow may forget, and I understand more and more the seriousness of my brother's problem.

But I didn't give up, I knew that my brother was just a slow learner.

If you learn slowly, you can only teach him what he should learn early.

From the addition and subtraction of the first ten digits is not a disadvantage, to the ninety-nine multiplication table is reversed.

Although I have been taught here, I have been in junior high school since I was 15 years old.

And my younger brother is seven years old and should go to elementary school.

Mom doesn't seem to want her brother to go to elementary school, she is afraid that he will be bullied by other classmates.

Mom's worries are right, because I'm worried too.

Dad said that he couldn't help Mom, so he could only let his younger brother teach himself at home.

This is also the beginning of all nightmares.