日复一日,年复一年,这十几年里,我从年轻的妈妈怀里接过来一批又一批哭闹的孩子,又一批接一批地把他们送进小学。看着周围的孩子们一天天的长大,我孩提时代的故事便会清晰地呈现在眼前。在我5岁那年,一个星期一的早上,我磨磨蹭蹭地起床,磨磨蹭蹭地穿衣服,又磨磨蹭蹭地吃早饭,仿佛我磨磨蹭蹭就能逃避被送进幼儿园似的。因为去了幼儿园,就会一个星期见不到爸爸妈妈。我害怕,我不开心,可我的嘴噘得再高也动 Day after day, year after year, in the past dozen or so years, I took batches of crying children from the arms of my young mother and sent them one after another to elementary school. Watching the children grow up day by day, my childhood story will be clearly presented. In my fifth year, on a Monday morning, I woke up, clutched my clothes, and ate breakfast, as if I could walk away from being kindergarten-like. Because I went to kindergarten, I could see Mom and Dad for a week. I am afraid, I am not happy, but my mouth is too high to move too