A work describing childhood memories

Next time we meet, I know everything will be different. Time flies like water, suddenly looking back, the past is like the wind, and time is on the road. Wooden boats full of childhood drifted away in the long river of years and ran aground in the harbor of memories. Childhood, the "house" stranded in the yard

When I was a child, I liked to play house with little girls my age. Although I am sweating, I don't feel tired at all. I remember once, squatting in the corner with my cousin, they actually made a "meal" in an exemplary way. Let's first find a few big flat stones and pile them in the corner, which is what we call a "stove". Then I went to the fields and the roadside to find a lot of "ingredients"-hand-picked wild flowers and weeds. I put on my grandmother's apron and gestured a little like cooking. I am a chef, my cousin is a waiter, and my mouth is chanting: "Fried eggs with leeks!" " "While putting" food "into a" plate "made of clay in advance.

When it's time to cook, grandma can't find her apron. At first sight, it was on me. Grandma looked at our hands full of dirty mud, and suddenly she was angry and funny, teasing us. After listening, I couldn't help smiling at my cousin.

In childhood, maltose stayed in the alley. The first time I tasted maltose was at a market in a small town. A thin old man, pushing an old tricycle, made a "zlazra" sound and leaned against the corner of the alley, which was his booth. He never walked the streets like other vendors, just stayed in a corner, shaking rattles and selling maltose. Grandpa sat on a short bench with two square laundry baskets in front of him. There is a thick board on the laundry basket, with milky maltose piled on it. Grandpa's stall is always crowded with a group of children, but most of them just keep sucking their little fingers, watching grandpa slowly make maltose, drooling, and can't wait to stick out his tongue and lick it before having fun.

Being a grandfather of maltose is really ingenious and has become a mythical figure in our eyes. His rough calloused hand, a ball, a pinch, three times and two times, a lifelike sugar man was born. Although the sugar man is only a simple milky white, the outline of the characters is clear and identifiable. At this time, the children are always clamoring for grandpa to squeeze out his favorite animated characters. Usually, the most popular ones in the booth are the magical monkey king, the omnipotent tinkling cat and the lovely Pikachu. ...

There are many ports in life, with different wooden boats stranded, one of which is called childhood. Childhood wooden boat, quietly stranded in the harbor of memory, loaded with all kinds of childhood, some immature, some frank, some fun, some trouble. Regain precious memories and recall my childhood again. Those times seem to be just around the corner, and they will never go far, waiting for me to remember again.

But I know very well that the stranding of childhood is not berthing, and stranding at every stage means that we are about to set sail. Facing the long life, I raise the sails of youth and hope and set off again. Looking back on my childhood, I waved, adjusted my skirt, turned around and left.

Next time we meet, I know everything will be different.