"Boy, your brother Jianjun hasn't come yet, and you can't eat yet. The pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info wait for him to come and eat together. ”

Grandma said angrily to me who wanted to serve the meal.

Most of the time, my grandmother called me boy.

Grandma always felt that girls were a filthy existence, and they would come to the body when they reached a certain age (menstruation is a common name for country people). It's not clean, even the ghosts and gods are afraid of seeing blood,

It is easy to see blood and anger. Ghosts and gods are bloodthirsty and greedy, but physiological menstrual blood is not blood, and there is always a kind of trickery and insulting to women.

My grandmother was a bodhisattva apologist.

A Buddha should be compassionate and tolerant, and he will accept everyone who is sincere to the Buddha with his heart. And when we are entangled in women's menstruation and blasphemy against the gods, do we understand the Buddha too much as human nature and philistine?

It would be a bit dogmatic and formalistic to pay too much attention to these. This is dross and deserves to be discarded.

Grandma, she seems to have forgotten that she is also one of the thousands of women.

Why should the old woman bother the little girl. Because of these factors, when I grew up, I was afraid of menarche. And when I was immature at the time, I also felt that this was a kind of filth in my heart.

Jianjun's brother is in the sixth grade of primary school and is in the same school as me.

The conditions in the countryside are poor, and the kindergarten and the six-year primary school are built together. By the time I was about to enter the third grade, the primary school in the village could no longer be opened, and my generation could only walk a three-mile path to go to Mojia Primary School in Mocun to borrow.

When I left the school gate, I happened to see the sixth-grade stabbing boys, lined up, and stretched out their hands one after another.

I saw a male teacher with horizontal eyebrows and vertical eyes with a very serious face, almost like cast iron, holding an old bamboo silk stick in the palm of each of them mercilessly.

Bang Bang ~~~ Bang Bang ~~~ Several times.

I watched this scene like a fool. And Jianjun's brother stood tremblingly at the end of the long dragon-like line.

The male teacher sensed my frightened gaze and glared at me, his face tense as if he had been brushed with a layer of paste.

Mom, isn't that the devil father of Pang Lu's family!

Pang Lu's swollen eye today was a slap from his father.

Later, I don't know if it was because of the eye injury and vision loss, but in the first grade, she became the only student in the class with a pair of small pink glasses.

This place should not be stayed for long.

I didn't even look back and ran to my aunt's house.

Dad works as a small worker in the field, and Mom doesn't earn as much money in the doll factory as she does to pick up garbage outside. It was a lot of fun, except that she could hardly be seen in the early morning and evening.

I had to settle my lunch at my aunt's house.

Every semester, my family weighed enough rice for my grandmother to cook for me. My grandmother has not allowed me to serve a second bowl of rice, I don't know what she thinks.

I am not allowed to chew when eating, let me swallow it directly, because Brother Jianjun eats like this, and I want to be the same as him.

Everyone is on par with the renminbi. How can I be different.

Kindergarten was supposed to end a quarter of an hour early at noon.

And Brother Jianjun hid at the end of the line, don't think about it, you have to grind for an "hour".

When my brother was taught by a teacher at school, I wouldn't shake it to my grandmother like a long-tongued woman.

lest my grandmother want to involve me and babble.

"Grandma, the teacher beat me."

After waiting for nearly half an hour, Brother Jianming finally came back.

The deaf pulled his head, stretched his thin neck, and threw himself into his grandmother's arms like a monkey playing tricks.

Grandma looked at the bruises on her brother's hands that were drawn out by the bamboo whip, and she was very distressed, "Which mongrel kid dares to beat my precious grandson, grandma will help you find him!" ”