我醒来,天刚亮,天空如青瓷一样。我开始想你,这钟点,你起来喂猪了吗?镇子最西头,咱家的炊烟总是最早升上天空的。你头上包着的红头巾成了每一个清晨最鲜亮的符号。你端着热腾腾的米粥来喊我:小雨起床了,太阳晒屁股了……眼睛潮乎乎的难受,我把脸埋进枕里,试着减少一些对你的想念,以及对米粥的想念。可我还是无法自拔地想念你,想起你为我煮的米粥。自我从记事起,家中的一日三餐外加夜宵和下午茶都是父亲亲自出马的。可是,当父亲换了工作之后,他的时间表就像是上帝故意安排过似的, I woke up, it was dawn, the sky is like celadon. I started to miss you, this time, you get up pig? The town is the west, our family’s smoke is always the first to rise to the sky. The red turban wrapped around your head became the brightest symbol of every morning. You are carrying a hot porridge to shout me: a rain get up, the sun a butt ... ... the eyes of the tide of uncomfortable, I buried his face pillow, try to reduce some miss you, as well as rice porridge Miss. But I still can not help but miss you, think of the rice porridge you cooked for me. Self-remembered, the family three meals a day plus supper and afternoon tea are his father personally. However, when his father changed jobs, his schedule seemed to be God’s intentional arrangement,