Childhood Memories: My Dad

When I remember my childhood memories of my father, I remember the desire he wanted to learn, the respect for books and written words, and the way he shared and disseminated his commitment to knowledge. My father is sitting on the head of the table, my mother is always sitting on his right side. Please join us as all walks of life, scholars, diplomats, artists, students. My father mainly holds discussions on topics of interest in historical and cultural roots.

Many memories of my childhood were my father bent over several machines, and his tools dotted around him. If the project is delayed like a microwave popcorn, a click sound will be generated and the frequency and intensity will rise. My father wants his son to be helpless, so I will try to involve me in these projects. "One day you need to know these things." He may still need someone standing there to have a stupid flashlight. I can foresee that I am not keen on this participation at the age of 12. My mother said that my common response is "I only pay for others to do this." Before I play Super Nintendo as a professional, I think that there is a bright future.

One of my father's most valuable childhood memories was in the snowstorm of Monroe, North Carolina. My father knows that people will not drive carefully on the snow-covered road. So he threw the chain behind his pickup, grasped two working gloves, bound me, then we left. Sure enough, we met cars in the groove, the owner was stuck. This is in front of the phone. Old way Dad raises and tells these people that they confuse them. "