Composition of traditional ground soybean milk

Every time I look at the colorful drinks on the shelf and the bottle of sweet and greasy liquid on my hand, I can't help but think of the sweet soybean milk and its deep affection every night.

Everyone likes the soybean milk made by my mother, except me, of course. When I was a child, every night she would choose fresh beans one by one according to a certain proportion and then soak them in water. The next morning, when the beans are ground into soybean milk with a small mill, they are cooked with a small fire, and finally the white foam on the upper layer of soybean milk is removed, and the soybean milk is ready. Besides, you can't put sugar in this soybean milk. She always said, "If you add sugar to soybean milk, you won't get the smell of soybean milk." However, sugar-free soybean milk is not for people like me who like sweets very much. However, this soybean milk must be drunk. My childhood in memory is spent complaining to my mother after "pouring" soybean milk every day.

But what I am most dissatisfied with is my mother's strict requirements for me. Just as my mother never put sugar in soybean milk, my mother is very strict with me and rarely has a gentle time. Every time I do something wrong, even a small thing, she will severely scold me until I admit my mistake and correct it. For this reason, I have secretly complained and envied the gentleness of other children's mothers and the sweet drinks in their hands.

Although the sun is still high in the sky like a jigsaw puzzle, it shines as warm as ever, trying to make people think that the years have not passed. But the increase of wrinkles on my mother's face and my height exposed its clues, and time passed a lot.

Mother is old, so am I.

When my mother is old, the soymilk at home has already been made by the soymilk machine. When I am old, I can already taste some of them. But I can't taste the deeper things in soybean milk. The more barriers and contradictions between my mother and me.

It was a cold winter day, and the cold wind would give people the illusion of wearing nothing. It happened that the cram school ended late, and it was already dark outside when the class was over. I was walking home alone, and I couldn't help thinking of a horrible story, so I walked quickly in a panic. This kind of quick walk doesn't matter. I noticed someone following me. I'm afraid of being in a hurry, and my pace is faster, but the people behind me are also faster. I boldly looked back at the corner, and the man behind me happened to be walking in the light at the edge of a storage room, huh? It's mom! Suddenly I felt like I had knocked over a five-flavor bottle, and I didn't know what it was. It's still far from home, but I feel time flies. Looking at the familiar figure of my mother, a complicated feeling came to my mind.

Looking at my mother with silver hair, I once again found that my mother is like sugar-free soybean milk. Although it lacks sweetness, it adds a mellow original flavor. I finally tasted the affection contained in soybean milk that day.