At ten o'clock in the evening, when I opened the door of my house, there was only a night light on in the living room.
The cake boxes were neatly placed on the coffee table, and there was a note on the plate next to it. On it was a crooked calligraphy written at the level of a middle class in kindergarten: "Mom, I'll wait for you to come back to cut the cake, but I'm too sleepy, so I'll take a nap first."
Underneath the note is a drawing of a little man and an adult holding hands.
My nose felt sore and my hands holding the cake box were shaking a little.
I was working overtime today to catch up on the plan. The idiot director of the company told me, "This project must be released today." I said today is my daughter's birthday, and he said, "That would be even better. Single mothers should work hard and set an example for their children."
