Every year after New Year, the house is full of soy flowers and fried fruit, and when I was a child, my mother and I blew them up, one by one, one by one, and soon one by one. It's me and the face, the face, the face, the plastic, the blast, the mother only tastes and reviews. The spring festival of 2020 is approaching, and one year old, and it's going to blow up the leaves, as usual. It's so cuddly, it's delicious, and Mom eats a couple of them in a row。
