Childhood Interesting Stories

I remember it was a hot day and I was starving. One day when I was five years old, I was hungry, but I found my house empty and cold! I looked at the empty house and was very helpless. I thought to myself, "What should I do? What should I do? How can I eat without an adult at home? Why don't we wait? Let's wait until they come home. I thought while running to the kitchen, carrying dishes, lifting a small bench, and running to the table to wait dutifully. "One minute, two minutes, three minutes ......" twelve minutes had passed and my stomach was like a deflated ball, about to run out of "gas". I was like an ant on a hot pot, anxious, thinking: "Oh my God! Why aren't Mom and Dad coming? My stomach is going to be hungry! Forget it, let's wait five more minutes. I made up my mind that if Dad and Mom didn't come after five minutes, I would cook my food. (Some procrastination.)

I propped my head up and stared at the second hand of the clock on the wall, feeling as if these five minutes were like years. Looking at the clock, which had not yet reached the point, I thought to myself, "Is it possible that Father Time has slowed down the time and is deliberately working against me? Five minutes had passed and they hadn't come yet, so I imagined in my mind how my dad would cook the rice and start to make it up.

I went to the rice jar, gritted my teeth, and used all my strength to move the heavy stone lid. I found a small measuring cup from the "mountain" of rice and scooped up half a cup of heavy rice. Then I poured the rice into a large basin, turned on the faucet, and then turned it off when the water in the basin was full. Then I brought in a small stool and sat down to wait for the rice to settle. While I was waiting, I felt hungry. So I stood up and poured the water from the basin into the toilet. I followed my dad's example, turned on the rice cooker, and poured in the soaked rice. Plugged it in and pressed the switch. Then I waited with great anticipation for the rice to cook. At that moment, there was a knock at the door. I couldn't wait to get to the door, moved a small stool, and stood up carefully to see who was coming through the cat's eye. It turned out to be a mom! I excitedly jumped off the stool and moved it out of the way. Then I opened the door to welcome my mom, and I hurriedly brought my slippers to her to put on. (The cooking process was a bit of a running account.)

After chatting with my mom for a while, the rice cooker rang. I rushed over and unplugged it. Then excitedly opened the rice cooker. I thought it would be fragrant rice, but I didn't expect it to be black and burnt rice. I looked at the rice cooker in a mess, smelling the pungent smell of burning, there is an indescribable taste in my heart. Subsequently, I used a bowl to serve up the rice but unexpectedly found that the rice cooker is broken. I blamed myself and was very worried. I was apprehensive and didn't know if I should tell my mom. Tell it, but afraid of being beaten; do not tell it, but feel sorry for it. I was in a dilemma as if two little people were fighting in my heart. After a series of thought struggles, I still decided to confess to my mother. I went to my mother, stammered, and said: "Mom, I'm sorry about ....... I broke the rice cooker ......." My face was red with anxiety, like a ripe persimmon. I thought my mom would scold me and beat me, but I didn't expect her to touch my head and say to me gently, "Good boy, it's okay. People will always grow and improve! Let's just go to the repair store and fix it."

Although the rice cooker was repaired in the end, I have never forgotten this experience, it is the most "naughty" wave in the river of my life! But that late dinner and the growing experience of cooking will always be remembered in my young heart, unforgettable!