I felt my mother's body tremble a little as her legs shook my head a little dizzy. She tossed her hair behind her and lowered her head to let me close my eyes and sleep. When I didn't comply, she struggled to move me to the pillow and covered me with a quilt.

She kissed me on the forehead and walked away with the door.

Rarely, he was there all afternoon. I pretended to sleep, and glued all the observation power I had unloaded to my mother's long hair. She told a long story, long enough to make the man sleepy enough to keep him awake. He fell asleep on the couch, the sound of the TV became a lullaby, and he didn't forget to hold on to the remote control while holding on to it.

The considerate wife helped her sleeping husband settle in by taking the remote control, turning off the television, and covering him with an untimely blanket. Such subtle movements still woke him up. With a sense of resentment that he didn't know whether to get up or not to digest after lunch, he lifted the blanket as if he was playing a trick, and then went straight to the bedroom without looking back. Leaving his obedient wife, she picked up the quilt on the ground and leaned back on the sofa in a daze. The wind was still warm, but she tightened the blanket.

These scenes shouldn't happen in a sunny day, and the slight snoring silences the whole room. A family of three, each with its own dreams. I stared at a patch of mottled ceiling with virtual concentration, giving it the vivid scent of a marriage drama.

There is no equality in the relationship between a wife and her husband, and in fact this is true of any relationship between two or more people. If you meet someone who is willing to give, you will be happy, and if you can't, you will regard marriage as a relatively stable love guarantee. Marriage destroys love from the outside in, and love corrupts the marriage from the inside out.

I lay upstairs, not disappointed but glad at the unfortunate marriage downstairs. I was also annoyed that I was not worthy to break up the marriage with grace, meaning that I was not worthy of the wicked man.

The heat sinks to the horizon with the sun, and it is normal for me to take a good afternoon nap and sleep all afternoon. I went downstairs with my sleepy eyes, and my mother was already busy setting up dinner.

The model was visibly shifted and positioned so that the bull's head was not in the horse's mouth, and I adjusted it. I wondered why that damn man hadn't gotten up yet? I decided to come to the door myself. Running to his room, I jumped on the bed without taking off my shoes, jumping up and down on it, pretending to step on his body unintentionally, and he screamed "ouch" in pain. He had to get up and punch my calf muscles hard, and all the strength was on his hand, and he shook his arm a few times, like shaking off the vicious dog that had bitten his hand.

I asked him if he liked the model I made, and he looked at it in disgust, in fact I was referring to the little man in my hand. He was politely silent, but sat on the sofa in a daze, perhaps not yet awake from his dream.

I put things under his nose and couldn't help but keep him from looking.

"Who is this?"

I pointed at him. I don't think I need to explain that he understands that this model was not made specifically for him, although I can pretend that I have some care by how realistic it is. He nodded in satisfaction and called me decent.

I pointed to the house on the coffee table again, and emphasized the man sitting on the couch, who had just put "himself" in and threw it aside, breaking his arm.

"I didn't think I could have such a big conflict with him, I thought he could endure it all the time, just like for more than 20 years. I admit that my hatred for him is unwarranted and unreasonable, because it is not balanced with how well he treats me. What's the problem, you ask me? I don't know. When I took an unusual path, I realized that I was either blindfolded and pretending to be happy, or I was stepping on all the pain in my body as a knife...... I can't think of a better option, it's black and white for me. ”

In the beginning, I was just an innocent kid who was confused and out of the way. I was confused because I had just come out of the shower, and I was still wearing wet hair that was steaming hot. My mother stayed in her secret room after dinner, and I knew who she was thinking, and he understood.

"He finally fell in love. Maybe mentioning love at this time is consuming romance, but this is the only place I am willing to compare with him, and the end is that he wins. ”

The window was supposed to be closed by the mother, but she forgot to draw the curtains. The sky was as dark as a bottomless cloth bag, and the blue sky and white day did not exchange for a few stars at night. My hair dried in a few moments, and I waited quietly outside the door for her to come out, trying to figure out how to catch "his" arm.

"At dinner, he drank a lot of wine. Staying awake was a painful thing for him, and I was not sure if he had learned to enjoy the pain. You say, If I am a murderer, who in the family has tried to care about what he has endured? Hehe, I seem to have accidentally pretended to be fair, sorry, let's get back to the point. ”

He asked me to move my position and not get in his way, and then I entered angrily with the "painful determination" that had just grown.

"You...... Here it is again...... Miss him! I suddenly felt some sympathy for him, and when he said this, I magnified his grief through a microscope.

"I came back today, do you still want to be like this and don't know how to change?" Mother was awakened by him, her curled limbs stretched out like a skinny long-haired dog.

"I'm sorry, I'm used to it. I'll be out right away, don't be angry. His mother almost trotted up to him, perhaps because she didn't want her loved one to see her haggard life.

The word "habit" is stinging enough, so even I was moved to hear it.

"You're used to it, but I don't want to put up with your habits anymore. Today, I must remove his tablet, and this room is not allowed to enter in the future! As he spoke, he swept the things on the altar to the ground in a destructive manner. The mother's screams echoed the broken glass, announcing that the habit could never be continued.

After catharsis, I just want to get out of the way, and after I finish throwing things, I just want to leave.

I sat quietly in the doorway, and even when I saw him angry, I didn't get up. When I saw my mother crying, I got up. I crawled quickly on my hands and feet, biting the man's leg and not letting him go.

"Dead bastard." He kicked me to the side and rolled right next to my mother. The glass slammed into the pad of my ass, and I screamed in pain.

The mother, who was busy holding the photo into her arms, suddenly struggled and stretched out her arms to push him towards the mourning platform......

"I soaked his body in the bathtub for an entire night."