Every year, there are parents who remind themselves of their lunar birthdays in time, and then the Gregorian calendar blessings sent by various apps. It can be imagined that the parents on the other end of the phone must be muttering: It's my daughter's birthday, and I must be too busy to forget, send her a message to remind her.
This is one of the few ways that restrained parents can express their love outright. From the original mobile phone text message, to the current WeChat message. When the child is far away from home, and can no longer directly serve him a bowl of hot hand-rolled noodles as he did when he was a child, he can only knead the worries and thoughts in his heart and transmit them to thousands of miles away.
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No matter how far the kite flies, there is still a thread. Although I traveled through the world on the way to soar, after all, my favorite is the fried buns made by my mother, and my father's (eh, my father doesn't seem to have any special kitchen talents) and my father's life guidance.
Sometimes I will be quite "grateful" for my ability to encounter six gods and no masters, and I have confusion at work, problems in life, and even emotional ups and downs, and I want to confide in that familiar number for the first time, and I can learn useful truths from my parents. I cherish this light, it grows up with me, and I am still greedy, hoping that it will accompany me until I am old.
Now that my dad has spoken, let's go back a little bit first.