在我家乡的街头,几乎每天清晨或傍晚,你都可以看到一位老人推着豆腐车慢慢走着,车上的蓄电池喇叭发出清脆的女声:“卖豆腐,正宗的卤水豆腐!豆腐咧……”那声音是我的。那位老人,是我的爸爸。爸爸是个哑巴。直到长到20几岁的今天,我才有勇气把自己的声音放在爸爸的豆腐车上,替换下他手里摇了几十年的铜铃铛。 In the streets of my hometown, almost every morning or evening, you can see an old man pushing a tofu car and walking slowly. The battery horn on the car makes a crisp female voice: “Tofu, authentic brine tofu! Tofu Hee hee... ” That voice is mine. The old man is my father. Dad is dumb. Until today’s 20th birthday, I had the courage to put my voice on my father’s tofu cart and replace the copper bells that he had shaken for decades.