自懂事以来,“好孩子”这一词便一直充斥在耳边,“要做个好孩子”这句话,我想,父母说了不止千万遍。想起以前,每当我做错了某件事,父母总是边斥责我,边拿邻居家的谁谁来给我做范例:“唉,瞧瞧,人家孩子多乖啊!既听话又懂事,每回考试总拿回好成绩,你呢?数学总是那么粗心!”我一肚子委屈愤懑,却找不到地方发泄,想要哭,视线早已模糊,泪水却总在眼眶里打转。 Since I knew myself, the term “good boy” has been flooding my ears. “To be a good boy,” I think my parents say more than 10 million times. Think of the past, whenever I did something wrong, parents always rebuked me, take the neighbors who who will come to me as an example: “Well, look at the many children of good people, both obedient and sensible, Every time the exam always get back a good result, you? Mathematics is always so careless! ”I am a grievance of resentment, but could not find a place to vent, want to cry, vision has long been blurred, but always tears in the eyes spin.