第二十一章(2/4)

                                                                                                        我找话问他，“儿子，球踢的怎么样啊！”
                                                                                                                                                                
                                                                                                                                                                儿子一声不啃。问到第三遍，他才不耐烦地说，“跟你说你也不懂！”然后，小声自己嘟囔着说，“跟废物一样。”我火了，“这是什么话？”“我们好几个队友都是爸爸开车来接的，差的也是骑摩托、骑电动自行车，就你骑个破腿动自行车不说吧，还来的这么晚！”我无话可说了。
                                                                                                                                                                到底是小孩子，一会儿就把这茬儿给忘了，“哎，爸，寒假学校要组织冬令营，我们班上的同学都参加了，我也要去。学校说要交四百二，你下个月发工资就给我交了吧！”我嗯了一声，泪流满面。
                                                                                                                                                                我现在也明白杰克伦敦笔下那个老拳击手为什么哭了。回到家，洗手、洗脸，吃饭。
                                                                                                                                                                洪歌今天晚饭做的特别丰盛。我皱了皱眉头，以后可不能再这么吃饭了，三个人，炒上一大盘菜足够了。
                                                                                                                                                                不用弄什么三个盘子四个碗儿的。但我知道，洪歌刚刚下岗，不能刺激她，所以，我什么也没有说，唉，等回头慢慢说吧。
                                                                                                                                                                吃完饭，洪歌又抢着去洗碗。我一愣，今天她还有心情？她收拾完，打发儿子下去溜狗，自己也到卧室了。
                                                                                                                                                                还好，她没有喷香水。看来是觉得自己下岗了，得多干点活儿了。
                                                                                                                               

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