他们的小儿子就像被魔杖一指,飞跑到母亲跟前,诉说他刚才怎样摔了跤,摔得多么疼,又怎么哭了。一天晚上,我到朋友家去串门。我们坐在沙发上,天南海北地闲聊起来。突然房门大开,我那位朋友的小儿子站在门口,哭喊着:“妈妈!妈妈!……” Their youngest son was like a wand, flew to his mother, tell him how he had just wrestled, fell so much pain, and how to cry. One night, I went to a friend’s house. We sat on the sofa, chatting together in the sky. Suddenly the door widened, my friend’s youngest son standing in the doorway, cried: "Mom, Mom!