有一个古老的童话,诉说着岁月的沧桑,穿越千古,依旧美丽,那就是父亲。父亲,他喜欢红军。毛泽东在他心中是神仙,是太阳。他每每在我面前说起毛泽东时,是那么的自豪。他曾说过,在那个年代,他一定是大将军,每次都会将“大”字高八度吐出。妈妈总嘲笑,在那个年代,队伍最后的那个逃兵,就肯定是我爸。父亲总是无视 There is an ancient fairy tale, tell the vicissitudes of years, through the ages, still beautiful, that is, my father. He likes the Red Army, father. Mao Zedong in his heart is a god, is the sun. He was so proud when he talked about Mao Zedong in front of me. He had said that at that time he must be a major general, each time will be “big ” the word spit. Mum always laugh at that time, the team that the last deserter, it must be my dad. My father always ignores