Dumplings (micro-fiction)

Author: Ma Guiming

Original works mo carry, just look at it.

Stick mallet rolling dough skin, skin round skin thin skin tough spread palms, chopsticks sandwiched meat filling pile, two hands one hand, swinging dustpan, white noodle dumpling round line up, gradually leaning on the center of the circle pile...

The small hand was rolled by the dough skin, stretched out the chopsticks to clip, clipped the 'big' meat filling, turned the dough skin to learn to 'hold' with both hands, the dough skin was broken and exposed, the oil was so greasy that it stuck to the hand, little by little, sticking to the skin and pinching the nail lines, sighing, saying to himself that the package was good, carefully put the small bowl on the side...

"Look at the dumplings in my baby bag, it's good-looking." Casually rolled out a smaller piece of dough and threw it to him.

Stretching out his small arms to grab the dough, he didn't look at the small dough, and a pair of small hands clumsily wrapped the dumplings.

"Who will eat the dumplings?"

"Give it to Daddy." The fingernail-streaked dumplings did not look up.

"What does Mom eat?"

The small face of the flour-stained face is rosy and moist.

"That's it. What does my girlfriend eat? Grandma smiled and narrowed her eyes and asked.

Leaning on his embarrassed little face, he said seriously, "Eat the dumplings that my grandmother packed." ”

"Don't be funny. Hurry up and cook it and send it over. Wrapped around the white-faced covered apron, Grandpa broke in.

……

The snow in the first half of the night was still drifting.

The glare of the light creaked and shook.

"Here it comes. Here comes Daddy! "Ride on Grandpa's shoulders and kick your legs up your stomach.

Grandpa hugged the ground and turned around and shouted, "Hurry, hurry." The car is coming. ”

The large dustpans covered with quilts are stacked, the flustered and chaotic quilt crevices are steaming with heat, and the aroma of dumplings is rich and elegant in the snowflakes...

The car creaked to a halt, and figures flashed in the lights.

"Daddy~," the little man shouted hoarsely.

"Dad! What about Mom? Shouting loudly, "Get out of the car and move the dumplings." ”

Sounds overlap, figures overlap, masks, brain shells against the brain shell, and touch the head...

"Here it comes. Just know that if you look for your mother, you don't know how to find me? A thermos bucket was stuffed into his hand, "Dumplings wrapped in your son, dumplings with fingernail stripes." ”

"I wrapped dumplings for my father to eat." Guarding the thermos bucket, he raised his small chin chin.

"Go with your dad, don't bother me." cut! Bai raised a son..."

He approached and kissed the little man again, rubbed his head, looked at the eyebrows, and sent it over.

"Come back early! Son wants you to grin! Me~"

"Got it. So many people in the detachment wanted to go home. As soon as the support came back, I took family leave. "Bump your feet and raise your hands in salute!" I turned around and ran, and got in the car.

The orange-red car 'buzzed, buzzed' and rushed into the snowflakes...

"Mom, I didn't cry. I just want Daddy..." The little man stretched out his little neck and looked in the direction of the fire truck, talking to himself.

"The little boy doesn't cry. All blame the snowflakes for confusing their eyes. Wink at the droplets of water on his eyelashes and look from afar.

Grandpa tugged at his feet in an apron and looked.

Grandma secretly wiped her eyes with the corners of her clothes.

Remarks: The first release of "Hundred Houses" and the simultaneous submission of "China Writers Network". No porting!

October 20, 2021