I believe that all of us have written an essay entitled "My Childhood". I don't remember how I wrote it, and when I look back on my childhood, I can only say: "But that's it." It's not that I'm hypocritical, it's that there is still a gap between this and my ideal childhood life. Maybe I'm happy compared to those children whose parents divorced when they were young, but if I were given a chance to choose again, I wouldn't choose to grow up in my grandma's house.

It's not because my grandmother treats me badly, but because there is a problem with my character development. To this day, I have found that children who are not around their parents are always very sensible, just like me, and reading words and emotions was an essential skill for me when I was a child. It is said that crying children have candy to eat, and crying children have pain, and it turns out that this is true. That's why I'm a little more willful now that I'm older. When I was a child, I always lived "carefully" at my grandmother's house, and any wrong sentence was indispensable to be scolded. The habit of covering your head under the quilt and crying late at night was developed at that time. Grandma's bungalow is quite spacious, with two rooms in the north and south, a lot of vegetables will be grown in the yard, and there is a very loyal big wolf dog named Kuroko. In winter, grandma will put it in the corridor.,When I was a child, I got up in the middle of the night to go to the toilet and then sat on a small bucket to relieve my hands.,Kuroko will stand up immediately every time and silently annotate you don't make any sound.,When it wants to pee on its own, it will make a gentle roar.,Grandma will let it out for a moment when she hears it.。 Such a loyal good dog was still sold to someone else by her grandmother, and she felt that it was useless to get old, so it was better to exchange it for some money. When I was a child, I wanted to wait for it to die of old age and then find a good place to bury it, wouldn't it?

When I was a child, I always looked forward to my parents coming to see me. Especially my father, he will bring a small snack every time to make me happy, the routine is always that you close your eyes first and turn around, and when I turn around, a small umbrella is hung on my hat, in fact, this is a chocolate wafer. So every time my dad came, I was elated. It didn't take long for my grandmother and uncle to stop my father from doing this, on the grounds that she couldn't eat well when she was like this. It seems that this reason makes some sense, but in fact, I think it is so hateful. When I was a kid, I used to secretly write letters to my parents. The content of the letter is very naïve, such as: Grandma and they are eating dumplings today, why didn't you come to grandma's house, Dad, etc. During the Mid-Autumn Festival, I would wrap my mooncakes and put them in a small box made of building blocks, waiting for my mother to give them to her when she came to see me. At that time, I was like an underground worker, secretly delivering news to my parents.

I didn't have that good relationship with my grandmother when I was a child, and I didn't love her as much as I do now. At that time, her legs and feet were quite good, and she spoke loudly. When I'm angry, I always say two things that make me sad to hear. One sentence is: Little dead girl. The other sentence is: You can't die. I still feel sad when I think about these two sentences, especially why they come out of her mouth so ugly. So much so that once I couldn't bear to say, "Dead old lady!" "The price of saying this is that my mother picked me up and threw me out, and I couldn't come in without apologizing. It was winter, and I had just stripped naked and was in the shower, but even so, I still didn't apologize. I hate her so much! At that time, I lived with my grandmother and uncle, and my mother took me home on the weekend. Every time my uncle was on duty, I would ask my mother, "Does grandma live and travel by herself?" Why don't you buy me a small snack and I'll live with my grandmother. "At that time, I became more and more entangled as I grew older, and my feelings for my grandmother were also changing, and gradually she was getting older and older, and I was thinking more and more about her.

When I was a child, there were many children living near my grandmother's house, and my best name was Yangyang. She's chubby and cute, and I always go to her house to play. But she never went to my grandmother's house with me, because I didn't dare, after all, there was a plague god living in my grandmother's house. At that time, my biggest wish was to bring my friends to play at home, and this wish lasted for a long time until I graduated from high school, and of course there were many reasons in between. I distinctly remember that a lot of my primary school homework was done on the road, that is, writing as I walked. After walking for two minutes, I stopped and lay on the wall to write for a while, and when I arrived at my grandmother's house, I finished writing, and then I threw down my schoolbag and went to play with Yangyang. We play hide and seek together, jumping bands. Sometimes my dad would help us stretch the rubber bands, and now I think about how nice my dad is.

When I was a child, I was very fond of fantasy, and most of them fantasized about being able to become a very powerful person who could do magic. Now that I think about it, most of the unhappiness is due to my uncle, and as for him, I need to dedicate a chapter to it. A big reason why I was unhappy at my grandmother's house was because of him. But he also taught me some rules. For example, you can't make a loud noise when eating, you can't hit the bowl with chopsticks, and so on. But I still hated him, and I had to be extra cautious. How scared am I of him? Even if I found out that I was short-sighted, I didn't dare to say it. At that time, I looked very well-behaved on the surface, but in fact I was very rebellious at heart. If I know how to spell, the first thing is to give him some color.

My childhood was spent in a state of struggle and care. Those beautiful little memories are all with certain people, and when they are written, let's talk about it.