my mother
she’s my mother——just an ordinary woman in her forties. i can’t remember her age clearly. maybe you will think that i’m not a good son. but we just keep doing our own things and enjoy own life——a single and happy life.
she looks not tall, but always s make me feel that i nan never reach her. when i was quite young, she was already very strict with me. if i did something good, she just said “all right. do what you have to do next, then.” if i did something a little bad, she’d be greatly angry and shouted at me. as the time went on, she became even “worse”. i think that can be called bad. whatever i’m interested in is not allowed to do, and whatever i hate has to be done a lot. so that my mother and i are always complaining about the marks i get in the exams, the time i spend in playing and things i buy, which have nothing to do with my studies.
she