读书的时候,爸爸给我说,“你自己挣钱了抽烟我不管你。”“我挣钱不易,你最好不要抽烟。”我是知道的,我们家已经很不易了。土地下放到户的时候,头一年家里面就杀了一头三百斤的肥猪,卖了一头牛,得了260元,日子渐渐有了一些盼头。要过年了,爸爸天不亮就起床上路了,穿上偏耳子草鞋,背上一捆烟叶,沿着歪歪扭扭的羊肠小道,高一脚低一脚,到几十里地外的麻柳。烟草站的人我可不愿意把他们称为叔叔,虽然他们的年龄是我叔叔的年龄。他们会“卡”爸爸的 When I was in school, my father said to me, “You make money for myself and I do not care about you. ” “I make money is not easy, you’d better not smoke. ” I know, our family is not easy. When the land was handed over to households, the first year he killed a pig of 300 pounds and sold a cow for 260 yuan. To New Year, Dad got up on the road before dawn, put on the ears child straw sandals, a bunch of tobacco on his back, along the crooked trail, high kick low, to dozens of miles outside the Maliu. Tobacco station people I do not want to call them uncle, although their age is my uncle’s age. They will “card ” dad’s