Listen to your mom. I whispered with my head down. --Title Borrowed an MP3 from a friend and heard Zhou Dong's Listen to Your Mother. In the classroom lying on the desk to listen to this song that my friend said was worth listening to over and over again. Without realizing it, I saw the clear blue sky outside the window. Light blue. They all say mothers are as great as the blue sky. They all say we should love our mothers as much as we love that blue sky. They say, listen to your mom. Zhou Dong also said, listen to your mother. I always write about how I love her and how she loves me in my essays and then watch my teacher write in the upper right corner, "Good boy! Good mother." Sometimes I always want to vomit when I read it, hmmm, hypocrisy! I laugh at myself. But then, after a few moments, I think to myself, she really did treat me that way. I remember when I was a little girl, she would always comb my hair for me at the little dressing table. I remember when I was little she used to drive me down the slides in her old, not-at-all-expensive bicycle, and hear my loud, clear laughter. I remember when I was little she would always come to my bedside before I went to sleep and softly tell me the oldest story in the book, "The Wolf Came". I remember a lot of things about her and me. Now, she often wakes up early for me to cook the eggs that I am already tired of, saying "Eggs are good, don't starve in school if you eat them". She would go all the way to buy the famous wonton for me, but every time I ate it, she would always sit next to me and say, "It's not worth it to go all the way to buy it". She still often gets up in the middle of the night and goes to my room to see if I'm kicking the covers off, not wanting me to catch a cold, and then the next day she rambles on about how she's so old and still needs to be taken care of. She still does a lot of things for me. But I don't always want to listen to her. I used to say to myself, she just gave birth to me, why should I listen to her? We fought a lot. Almost every week. I always said to myself that I had a foolish mother. She was superstitious. I found this out when I was in third grade. That year I got very sick and was not cured for a long time. One day, I suddenly heard her saying to the other end of the phone, "When is that fairy coming? How much does it cost? Then that afternoon I saw a lot of people come to my house, a man in a cloak holding a so-called Jade Dragon smiled and counted the money she handed him, saying, "It's going to be quick, your daughter is going to be fine. Then the man came to my room and ordered his men whom he called disciples to see to the other rooms. Then the man circled around me several times and had the decency to look at my room again. Then I heard the man say, "The feng shui isn't very good. Then I heard the man tell her that she needed to perform a spell. Then I saw her go in and out, carrying something I didn't recognize. Then I was blinded. Gradually I began to regain consciousness. I ran into my room and found the man in my room. The man smiled at me and said, "Child, all is safe after the practice. I raised my head and stared hard at him, this hateful man! The anger in my heart made me push him vigorously and said loudly, You think you can fool my mom and you can fool me! His face hardened slightly. At that moment she happened to come by and saw the scene, I thought she would reflect on herself, but she scolded me loudly, you damned child! Monsieur is doing you good and you do this to him! Then she went over to the gentleman and said, "I'm sorry, the child doesn't know any better, don't be angry, sir. I heard the man smile hypocritically and say, "It's okay, it's okay, it's just a child. I angrily pushed the man again, ran into the study, closed the door, and sat in a corner with tears streaming down my face. This person is still that person who always taught me to believe in science and anti-superstition? Why had she become like this? Why did she scold me? On what grounds did she scold me? Why doesn't she believe in her own daughter? Why does she treat that so-called fairy like that? She's not my mom! But in the end, with tears in my eyes, I was still "ordained" by that man. Because she is my mom. She's my mom, and that's never going to change. But I still don't know why she said "You don't know mommy" next to me. Maybe. "Mom" is a word I'll never understand. I can't even read the Dictionary. I pressed another button on the pink MP3, "Single Song Loop". mp3, I looked at this very delicate MP3, while listening to Jay's chatter over and over again, thought a lot. She wouldn't let me buy MP3s unless I got into a major university. I can't remember how many times I mustered up the courage to ask her "I want an MP3". I don't need a very high-grade MP3, not to mention an MP4, which is very extravagant, I just want to have a very simple MP3, in my tormented by the study in my or lonely or lonely, I can hear Jay Chou and the back of the string that makes the corners of my mouth rise sound. But I can't remember how many times she rejected my request. She said that listening to MP3 will affect your study; she said that in order to get into Jinzhong, don't listen to MP3; she said that it's for your own good that you don't listen to MP3; she said that why can't you understand your mother
; she said, listen to your mother. I don't understand why other friends' mothers are gladly willing to buy their sons and daughters an MP3, but mine is not. I don't understand why listening to MP3s would interfere with studying. I don't get it, just because my brother is not that good in his studies and he happens to have an MP3?I don't understand her. I don't want to listen to her! I can't remember how many times I've argued with her about MP3s. I was the first one to object, but every time it ended in a tearful defeat. She always wins. Because she is my mom. Because daughters should listen to their moms. But I still don't know why she murmurs softly next to me every time, You don't understand mom. Maybe. I'll never understand the word "mom". I can't even read the Dictionary. I don't think I'm here to complain to others, saying "Mom doesn't understand me, I hate mom", I'm just simply and purely saying to others that this is the mom I must listen to. Maybe, I have the realization that "my mother doesn't understand me", but I don't have the realization that "I hate my mother". I don't know why. I was just saying that I didn't want to listen to my mom. I was just saying that I didn't like her being my mom. I can still remember, she was not young for me, she was less and less beautiful. But whenever my friends ask me who you love the most, I always blurt out, my mom. I don't know why. Do I do I really love my mom? They say that the first reaction is always the most revealing of what's going on at the bottom of one's heart. Is that really true? The second Sunday of May is Mother's Day every year. A friend said to me. Mother's Day? Yeah, it's coming up, get your mom a gift.