打我有记忆时起,父亲就是我很不习惯的一个形象:满脸胡茬,满身油渍,满口粗话。小时候,看着别的小孩牵着衣着整洁的父亲蹦蹦跳跳,我只能躲在角落暗自羡慕;而现在,看着有些同学的父亲西装革履来学校,我也只能黯然神伤。我把满腹的埋怨化作对父亲的回避、冷漠。 When I hit my memory, my father was an image I was not accustomed to: a stubborn face covered with grease and a thick mouth. When I was a kid, I watched as my other children bounced in my neat daddy’s father. I could only envy myself in the corner. Now I am saddened to see some of my classmates’ dresses and suits go to school. I put full complaints into his father’s avoidance, indifference.