I had never seen a feather duster when I was six years old. After school, I saw a dozen feather dusters on a bicycle and quickly begged my mother to buy me one. My mother wouldn't buy it, so I was so angry that I had to buy it. Finally I bought a feather duster as I wished. The first thing my mother got her hands on was a slap on my face with the feather duster she just bought. The barrage said, it was the first time I saw someone rushing to be beaten, and they had to choose their own weapons. It was not easy. I covered my head and ran around.
