After a hangover, I traveled back in time and went back to my ex-boyfriend's childhood to be his mother.
In the late 1990s, in the old family building of a sugar factory, in a crowded 40-square-meter two-bedroom apartment, there stood a big-eyed, round-faced porcelain doll crying out for hunger.
I ignored the screams and walked around the house until it was completely bare. Isn't your family poor? Wouldn't the baby be smaller? Relying on the prophet in this life, I will definitely be able to lead my small family to become rich and reach the pinnacle of life!
Wait, that's wrong! This is not a chronicle! It should be: This time, I am going to strike hard and see what kind of family can raise a jerk who breaks up on a cliff!
I grabbed some food to fill their bellies, and I lay on the bed and planned my revenge. I suddenly remembered something and jumped up!
He seems to have a father. Do I have a husband now? If you want that, wouldn't it be a mess? ?
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First person of text
Purpose: Love life forever