Growing up, although my family was poor, I was always loved. I laughed at my father for being too feminine, despised him for being nagging like a woman, and even talked back to him for my own little vanity. In fact, I never understood love. I was used to being loved and used to asking. Only when love was parting did I understand that love had always been by my side. Father's love and mother's love, if you have never been deeply hurt by your parents, if you have been carefully taken care of by them, they may not have too literary words to explain their love, at least their love is deep. ???????? That day I saw my father crying, and a round teardrop flowed from the corner of his eye.
Conception: