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It was around eight o'clock in the fresh early summer morning. The sun rising higher and the day growing warmer, girls and boys began to play in the little lane. My dear mother was sitting at the table covered with colorful tablecloth, nearby the narrow windows. She was concentrating her tailoring, singing. Bang! Crash! Suddenly, without any warning, a little football in black and white, rushed into the window. Also the cup on the table was broken. And sprays of Chinese tea flying in all new clothes my mother was stitching. Everything confused. The long line of motherâ€™s neck stretched out of the ruined window. Her face was so pale in the early sunlight. â€?Which boy will I curse?â€? mother asked. â€œOh. Your Little Dong.â€? I answered loudly. Dong is pronunciation of Chinese word: ä¸œæ–¹. So, Little Dong means East Little Boy.
Then clatter, clatter up the stairs, broom and map in my hands, I pushed the door open with stagger. I stand attention and my face muscle seemed a bit out of shape.
â€œPlease punish my palm,â€? I stretched out my hands.
â€œBut not too heavy!â€? I added.
â€œOh. My Little Dong. You are growing up!â€? mother sobbed.
â€œNo. Never. Never. Only eight years old,â€? I glanced at the calendar on the wall. â€œWhy am I so delighted today?â€? I asked to Mother.
â€œBuy food and cooking and prepare new clothes for you all day long,â€? Mother continued to knit. â€?Had no idea what day today is,â€? Mother answered with a sigh.
â€œHow hardship mama is with home work everyday,â€? I said. â€?We ought to take good care of our new clothes; mama, please have a look to the calendar.â€?
Mother noticed the calendar above the bedside cupboard. There was a picture in the calendar: a little woman is taking a fat boy in her arms, and the little boy is preparing for setting a couple of pigeon free. â€œOh. Today is international childrenâ€™s day!â€? my mother understood at once. â€œAll right. So, you ought to let me become a pigeon and can fly independently and freely! At least today.â€? I turned and make one step to run back with the little football.
â€œSlowly!â€? Mother passes me two apples and two eggs. â€œSlowly!â€?
â€œFaster. Faster!â€? I responded very joyfully. â€œToday activity is very rich.â€?
â€œPay attention to traffic safety,â€? said mother.
â€œI never am killed by a big bus,â€? I answered. â€œHow silly you are! You will never go home if you are killed. And the consequence would be more dangerous if you were badly hurt but not to die,â€? mother said anxiously. â€œWho can support you if paralyzed from eight to eighty?â€?
â€œBus Company. Bus Company. And if get out of controlâ€¦â€? I paused and showed my white wristband of white shirt. There were some clear ink words in it: No.24 lane123. Yean Road Shanghai.PRC.
â€œOh! My God! Why do you scrawl in ink,â€? My mother cried sharply. â€œOn the white shirt!â€?
â€œSee you again,â€? I pushed the door open and flew downstairs.
A few little friends waited for me in the lane. They are: ChengKangliangâ€¦Yebenâ€¦Jiangweiyuanâ€¦ wangxinhuaâ€¦Yeling xiang and zhouxinyiâ€¦at first, we played hide-and-seek, rolling iron hoop, jumping ropeâ€¦But soon I felt very much bored. So, I dragged a heavy plank and two backless benches out of our drawing room. And structured a simplest ping-pong ball table. Rapidly.
My nature is very urgent and very imperative. In playing ping-pong, I love to overpower smashes but not good at defense.