写下这个题目的时候,我似乎又闻见了父亲身上散发的那种熟悉的汗味。父亲已经老了,步履明显蹒跚,身手不再像从前那样矫健。曾几何时,父亲走路风风火火,做事雷厉风行。小的时候,我们兄弟四人要读书,全靠父亲一人忙里忙外。父亲总是乐呵呵的样子,他每次做事回来,总能像变戏法似的,不停地从口袋里掏出一些解馋的食物。我们儿个孩子享受着带着父亲汗味的食物,似乎忽略了生活的艰辛。父亲上县城的日子就是我们家的节日。清早,父亲挑一担柴或驮一棵树到离家30里的县城去 When I wrote this question, I seemed to have seen the familiar sweatiness of my father. My father is old, his steps are obviously staggering, and his skill is no longer as vigorous as ever. Once upon a time, my father walked in full swing, work resolutely. Small, four brothers to study, thanks to his father busy with one person. His father always look like a happy, every time he comes back to work, always like a juggernaut, keep out of his pocket some craving food. The enjoyment of our children’s sweaty food by our children seems to neglect the hardship of life. My father’s day in the county is our home’s festival. Early in the morning, his father picked a load of firewood or pack a tree to go to the county town of 30 miles away