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She’s my mother——just an ordinary woman in her forties. I can’t remember her age clearly. Maybe you will think that I’m not a good son. But we just keep doing our own things and enjoy own life——a single and happy life.She looks not tall but always s make me feel that I nan never reach her.
When I was quite young she was already very strict with me. If I did something good she just said “all right. Do what you have to do next then.” If I did something a little bad she’d be greatly angry and shouted at me. As the time went on she became even “worse”. I think that can be called bad. Whatever I’m interested in is not allowed to do and whatever I hate has to be done a lot. So that my mother and I are always complaining about the marks I get in the exams the time I spend in playing and things I buy which have nothing to do with my studies.She never lets me do the washing and cleaning for she just tells me to study hard. I haven’t got enough pratise. So I’m weak at looking afering myself.
When I am alone I’m always morrying about myself — I don’t know how to wash my clothes; I don’t know how to buy the best htings at a low prece and I don’t know many many things. I just hope that she won’t regard me a little child any longer and let me do what I want to do. I know you love me Mum but now I’m a grown-up. I love you too forever.
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