我十二岁的时候,他十六,我俩一起上山捡松树枝,我是抱着猫去的。我以一种“官二代”的心里优势想:我爸是你的校长,你给我家干活是天经地义的。他干活很卖力,偶尔也朝着我的方望一望,每次都以为他看我,实际上他看的是猫。后来,猫从我的怀抱跑掉了,我追了很远,然后哭了。他拉着我的手说:放心吧,猫比你聪明多了,它知道回家的路。 When I was twelve, he was sixteen, and we both picked up the pinewood up the hill, and I went with the cat. I think of my heart as an “official second generation”: my dad is your principal, and it is perfectly justifiable for you to work for my house. He worked very hard, occasionally looked toward my side, each time that he looked at me, in fact, he looked at the cat. Later, the cat ran away from my arms, I chased away, and then wept. He took my hand and said: Rest assured, the cat is smarter than you, and it knows where to go home.