On September 1, 1992, I was two months shy of turning 7 years old and finally entering the first grade.

My mother took me to the school to report very early, and I met many acquaintances along the way, and I thought I would be the first, but when I came to the first-grade classroom, many of my classmates were already sitting inside.

My mother handed me over to the homeroom teacher at the door of the classroom, a short, middle-aged lady with short hair and a pair of metal-framed eyes with many rings.

The teacher asked me to go in and find a place to sit down, and I saw my mother talking to the teacher outside, and then Qinqin walked into the classroom alone with her schoolbag.

I waved at Qinqin, and she sat down sullenly next to me.

"Are you coming alone?" I nudged her arm.

"Well, my parents are still arguing, so I'll come by myself." She reluctantly put her schoolbag into her desk.

"Why are you arguing?" I wanted to comfort her.

"I don't care about my schooling."

My mother waved at the door and left, I knew that my mother would not send me to school again, but I felt more happy than Qinqin, because my parents never quarreled.

I began to look at the classroom that had been thinking about me for a year.

It's very open.

Blackboard with the words Welcome to New Students.

On the podium, there are a lot of new books and two boxes of chalk.

In the front left corner are brooms and dustpans.

Two doors at the front and back.

There are two large windows on each side of the wall, square.

Soon, the first class bell rang, and all 40 students in our class arrived.

The teacher stepped up to the podium.

"Class." The teacher stood solemnly in the middle.

"Stand up." A few of the students sitting in front of them stood up, and everyone followed suit.

"Hello students!"

"Hello teacher!" Everyone shouted in unison, and the teacher handed it to us in kindergarten.

"Sit down."

Then the teacher began to distribute the books according to the roster, and everyone was excited to see the new books, and when the teacher handed the new books to himself, we all bowed deeply to the teacher, and it felt like the recruits took over the party constitution during the Anti-Japanese War.

On the first day of school, I met Mingyu again, I can only say that the road is narrow, and I am still a group of bad students in the eyes of everyone, I hate such ruffians.

"Xiaoxiao, let's go home together, shall we?" Mingyu asked.

I thought it was strange, and I was stunned for a moment, unable to understand the question I had just heard. Coming home together? What does this mean?

At this time, Qinqin ran over.

"Xiaoxiao, let's go, go to my house today to pack new books, my dad brought back a lot of newspapers."

She pulled me and ran away.

Qinqin is a month older than me, born in September, and was also stuck in age for a year to go to school. Our two families are very close, a few minutes away. We go to school together every day, go home together after school, and do homework together. Sometimes we run into Mingyu, but every time we see what he wants to say, we run away.

Qin Qin is more cheerful, while I am the complete opposite, I don't like to talk. There are always classmates who bully me, and it is Qinqin who helps me. Whoever snatched my homework book she would snatch anyone's book, and whoever scribbled on my book she tore up anyone's book, and then no one bullied me. Qinqin said that I can't smile at others all the time, I have to be fierce.

Qinqin and I have always had good grades, and we have taken the first and second exams in both big and small exams, and the teachers also like us very much.

At that time, the children were very happy, there was not much homework, there was not much pressure, and they would go to the playground to play ten minutes after class. Boys roll hoops and smash quadrangular boards, girls jump rubber bands and hopscotch. When I play Southeast, Northwest, I always have Zhu Bajie, it's really embarrassing, there should be some trick, but I didn't find it.

Our school has a commissary, spicy skewers for 5 cents a skewer, which is loved by students of all grades, and now that spicy taste has disappeared from the world. Everyone can blow bubble gum, and we often blow it together to see who blows it bigger, and as soon as the bubble bursts, it covers most of the face, and we have to tear it for a long time. A small bag of dried figs that we would share with a few of us, sweet and sour, just like the friendship back then.

During the picnic, we will collectively bring pots and pans, and read all the villain books and students in one class......

When I was in second grade, there was one thing that I couldn't let go of.

Someone came to the school to sell the memory instrument, nine dollars and nine one, it is better to directly ten dollars, the teacher asked everyone to buy it, I was an obedient student, I went home and took out all the money from the piggy bank, and asked my mother for a dollar to make it up.

The next day, I handed the money to the teacher, and she handed me something like a doctor's stethoscope, with both ends tucked into my ears and a mouth in the middle to the place where I spoke. According to my analysis, it should be used when reading, and the words read out of the mouth are poured into the ear through a stethoscope to achieve the effect of enhancing memory, of course, it will not have an effect.

"You see, Xiaoxiao studied so well and bought a memory instrument!" I regretted hearing this, it turned out that I was one of only four buyers.

Since I bought it, of course I wanted to use it, but I only used it for a morning self-study, and then it was put on hold.

Why did the teacher let us buy that kind of useless thing at that time, even if it was the standard of living in 2015, I would feel expensive if I was asked to spend nine yuan to buy something like that, let alone 93 years.

I wonder if the teacher will ever remember this, and if she does, how would she feel?