Mother

As far as I can remember, my mother loved nature, and she loved the flowers and trees. Unfortunately, my mother was lazy and never wanted to take the initiative to take care of the flowers that my father raised. So I thought that my mother was not the kind of woman who knew how to be sentimental and sentimental, and since I was her daughter, I should be the same.

But at noon that day, my mother stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the living room, which was the same height as the door, and said to me, who was sitting in front of the computer, "Smokey, come over here and pluck my gray hair."

I answered, but didn't move.

I don't understand what's so good about that computer ......" Seeing that I didn't move, her fire got even bigger, "Do you believe I'll smash your computer? "

Hearing this, I only reluctantly got up, dragging my steps towards my mother, and took the eyebrow clip from her hand.

"Where do I pluck it first?" I sounded slightly dismayed. "The right side has a lot of gray hair, right? Then let's start there." Mother ordered.

With a resigned sigh, I slowly turned to her right side, lifted my arm, and began to work dutifully. My mother cooperated with me, standing quietly toward the dining room, not moving.

Finally, I breathed a soft sigh of relief when I finished pulling out my mother's gray hair. Fortunately, she only let me pluck the few outsides, otherwise, I'm afraid I would have accidentally pulled down a few of her black hair, then I would have been miserable, my mother had to severely scold me, who let the black hair is my mother's treasure.

I looked up without thinking, I saw the mirror on my mother's left side and also saw my mother and me in the mirror. I never thought I would be taller than my mother! I looked at the mirror in dismay at the tiny difference that was barely noticeable. I turned my head to look at my mother again and saw the white strands of hair peeking out from her not-so-thick hair.

I suddenly realized that my mother had grown old.

My mother seemed to notice my abnormality and asked, "Are you done?"

I came back to my senses, settled down, smiled, and said, "Yes. You can pull the other side now, so turn around."

My mother obediently turned around, with her left side facing me and her right side being the floor-to-ceiling mirror that was the same height as the door. Just in time, let me take this opportunity to see the distance between me and my mother again, to see how much this distance, in the end, is.

I carefully picked out one of my mother's white hair, held it with an eyebrow clip, and tugged it outward with force. But my eyes were glued to the mirror, to the distance between me and my mother. I took the opportunity to estimate it out, it's only two or three centimeters - I haven't grown much this year, so naturally, there's not much difference between my height and my mother's.

"Are you done pulling?" Mother looked up and asked me.

"Almost." I smiled, looking at the increasingly pale face, at the crow's feet at the corners of my eyes, at the not-so-subtle double chin.

I sighed once again that my mother had grown old.

"Hurry up, then. It's almost one o'clock, I still have to go to work." My mother instructed me uneasily, afraid that I would delay her work. I smiled and said nothing. I had finished plucking a long time ago, but I just wanted to stay with her a little longer.

"Okay." Finally finished, I quietly looked at the woman who quickly put on the long-wearing coat, carried the big black handbag, and hurried out of the house without forgetting to ask me to lock the door, smiling slightly.

I want to say to her: mother, you are old.

But I didn't say it.

Wait until she gets off work.

At that time, I will say: mother, you are young.