Porridge

Is it true that people at a certain age want to go back to the past and old memories are suddenly retrofitted? I've been thinking about this smell for more than 10 years, and I've been locked in my heart, and I've never turned it over, and recently it's turned the page on its own, so I think about it, and I think about the good, happy times. Hourly parents are busy working and have little time to look after us, and every time I take a vacation, I'll do my homework for the shortest time, and I'll take my sister to the grandmother's house, which is in the next town. It's not very far away. It's a small road. Each time, we take a small road through several villages, several times through the fields, we walk along the road, we pick wild flowers and we are tired of rest under the trees, so that we can travel about four to five hours to reach Grandma's house. Now, Grandma's gonna ask, "Have you eaten?" We're gonna say, "Have you eaten?" "Daddy, does Mom know you're here?" "We know, we told them." We sneak into Grandma's house every time, but we just don't want Grandma to worry. Grandma knows we didn't eat, we don't break through, he always gives us food. Dad comes from home the next day, he talks to us, and we're very patient and serious about it, and we promise not to do it next time. Grandma gets up early in the morning to make us breakfast, she'll make a pot of porridge and then buy us some pineapple bread or oil bars. I love this porridge. It's full of mackerel and white fruit. I love it. I've been thinking about this taste lately, and I miss my grandma, and I want to eat her porridge, but I can't see her anymore. Oh, I can't write anymore. I can't help but write it here。