Strawberry roll

When my skinhead was small, I went wherever I went every day, washing, cooking, buying food, carrying it out I said to myself, when he grew up. Later, the skinhead would go away, run away, and as soon as I left my sight, I stopped working on it, and I said to myself, "Just wait till he goes to kindergarten." Soon, this day will come, and I still haven't had more time for this, the children will be old, more needs to be done, three meals will need to be prepared, school will come home at night, will need company, will need communication... ...Mother's position will never be free and will never be done. Although time is tight and a little tired, this is the happiest role. On weekends, I like to make something good, drink tea with the kids. The food may not be the best, but it must be the loveliest, the healthiest. And the kids are in the sun, they're laughing, they're eating snacks, they're living in peace. This is a strawberry cake roll made one weekend, and that afternoon we had a half-day talk about the word "beautiful," and I told the kids, "beautiful, many, some external, some internal, some face, some mind." Life may not be as good as it should be, but it must be a good man. In the recipe of the cake roll, my favorite is the fine taste of the classic four rolls, with cream and fruit, which are fine and delicious。