重温美好
王天晴
由于要贴春联,我和爸爸就从外面把门关上,说好等一下请妈妈帮我们开门的,可是,当我们把春联贴好了,妈妈的手机却不早不晚地响了起来。妈妈跑到楼上接电话,只剩下我和爸爸在门外不停地抱怨着。忽然,眼睛一亮,既然妈妈又开始煲电话粥了,一时半刻也指望不了她来开门,"老爸,看见那边那个回珑球了吗?我们去路上打球吧!"
来到花园外的柏油路上,我和老爸选定了一个位置,开始打起了球。先是老爸打,他拿着黑色的球拍,用力地抬起,挥出,然后夺目的金黄色小球借助了球拍的力量,在半空中画出了一道完美的弧线,落地,紧接着,它又马上被橡皮筋拉了回来。
爸爸起劲地打着,小球也来来回回地穿梭。我不得不承认老爸打球的样子还真帅。"你试试。"爸爸对我笑了一下,把球拍递给了我。我把球向上一扔,然后把球拍放身体前挥了出去。"错了。"爸爸拿过我手里的球拍,"应该放在身体的侧面。""可羽毛球就是那样打的!"我不服气地嚷嚷着。"呵呵,那就说明你打羽毛球的姿势也错了。"然后爸爸做起了示范,并示意要我看着他。"呀!我们对着太阳打球,好笨哦,来换一个方向。"老爸说道。我刚一转头,发现妈妈早已打完了电话,不知什么时候站在二楼阳台上笑眯眯地看着我们,"怎么样?与爸爸在一起玩是不是和与妈妈在一起时不一样啊!?"
"和与妈妈在一起时不一样?"就是这句话,触动了我内心深处一个柔软的东西,令我有种很特殊的感觉,似乎沉睡了很久之后又忽然苏醒一样。我想到了,小时候,对,就是小时候,小时候爸爸特别宠爱我,总爱一直陪我玩,我们一直驾驶小汽车、骑马、荡秋千,还有一起溜滑梯时,他还会在下面接住我。在不少小时候的照片里,经常看到爸爸和我一起玩的画面,照片里的我笑得那么纯真、满足,就和刚才的我一模一样。
我喜欢妈妈说过的一句话,"虽然我们不在同一个空间里,但我可以如此真切地感受到你们的存在。"真让人感到温暖!这句话,也许只有多愁善感的妈妈才想得到。爸爸的笑容,如阳光般灿烂,那时的他,就像是个十足的大男孩。
我回头看了一眼天空,今天的天真蓝,蓝得好单纯,没有添加任何调味剂;而那个冬日的下午,阳光明媚,就在那个下午,我找回了遗失的美好。
Since we had to paste spring festival couplets, my father and I locked the door from the outside. We planned to ask my mother to open the door for us when we finished the work. However, when we were about to finish, my mother's cell phone rang. So she went upstairs to answer it. Father and I could do nothing but wait and complain. Suddenly, I had an idea. Since my mother would not hang up the phone in a while, then I said to my father, "Father, did you see the solo tennisracket over there? How about playing it on the road?"
Father and I picked a place along the road outside of the garden and began to play. My father played first. He took the black racket and raised it vigorously and shot the ball. The bright yellow ball drew a beautiful arc in the sky by the power of the racket and then came to the ground. It was immediately pulled back by the rubber band.
My father played it with great zest. The ball bounced forward and backward. Well, I had to admit that my father looked great when he played. "It's your turn!" my father said with a smile and handed the racket to me. I threw the ball up to the sky and tried to hit it by putting the racket in front of me. "You did it wrongly!" My father took the racket, "you should put the racket on the side of your body." "But this is how I play badminton." I argued. "Ha-ha, it only means that you play badminton in a wrong way, too." Then my father asked me to watch how he did. "We are so stupid to play it facing the sun. We should change a direction." My father said. No sooner had I turned back than I found my mother stood on the balcony of the second floor and looked at us with a smile on her face. "How about playing with your father? Is it different from playing with me?"
"Is it different from playing with me?" This question touched a very soft part in my heart, which gave me a special feeling as if I wake up after a long time. I remembered when I was little, my father spoiled me a lot. He always played with me. We played car driving, horse riding, the swing game and he would catch me when I played on the sliding boards. I had many photos about my father and me when I was little. I could see an innocent and satisfying smile on my face in these photos just as the one I worn now.
I like one remark from my mother, "Sometimes we are not together, but I still have the feeling that you are there by my side." It was so sweet which could only be uttered by my mother, a woman of sentiment. I now found that my father's smile was like sunshine. He looked like a big boy at that time.
I turned back and had a glimpse of the sky. It was pure blue. On that sunny winter afternoon, I re-experienced my happy memory.
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