When I was in elementary school, the composition questions assigned by the Chinese teacher always started with everything around me, such as things I like, people I like, animals I like, etc. When I was in elementary school, other memories may be blurred, but there is an essay title I always remember clearly-“My Hippo Daddy”. When I walked to the podium to read my essay aloud with the squared text, the whole class burst into laughter.
I am a little bit inexplicable, because in my impression, Dad is like a hippo. Hippo’s mouth is big, and my dad’s mouth is also big, and I always like my dad to block his mouth with his hand when he lifts me up high, and the hand feels like thorns. My dad’s most enjoyable game is to use Hu. Stubble pierced my face. At this time, I think of the hippo father who sprayed water on the child in “Animal World”. At that time, when everyone saw me, they would say: “You and Dad look alike!”
When I entered junior high school, my composition class gradually got away from my surroundings. What I touched every day and what I saw could no longer make me have the impulse to record. Instead, I was full of splendor for the world beyond the clouds and thousands of miles away. Longing. My dreams often change with the joy of meeting. For example, when I met a doctor’s speech at school, I made up my mind to become Doctors Without Borders; I met a contestant in the National Mathematics Competition at the exhibition and I decided to work hard to learn math. Also standing on the podium; meeting translators who are answerable at the conference, I am determined to be a multilingual translator.
Every time my mother heard me shouting about ambition, she smiled disdainfully. But Dad never, his temper is as gentle as a hippo, he will only listen to me with a smile.
As my schoolwork became heavier and heavier, I had less contact with my parents after I moved into the dormitory. The subject that was once easy to handle, pressed me to the ground at the end of the term and “beaten” me. The unfamiliar knowledge flooding in like a tide made me tired to deal with, and an unprecedented sense of exhaustion was in my heart. I stared at the test paper in a daze. The black ink printing made me see the golden color difference, but I could not write a word. I wandered around the school playground round and round, but I still didn’t know when to stop.
On the second day, Dad appeared in the head teacher’s office, and it took a long time to get out of it. He looked at me, sighed deeply, packed my things and went home for the weekend. The atmosphere at home is cloudy. Although my mother didn’t say anything, I obviously felt that the air around me was several layers lower. Dad led me into the study and took out my textbook from the bag.
“Is it not?”
I shook my head.
“Don’t you understand?”
I also shook my head.
“What’s that, is it distracted?”
I shook my head quickly to protect my treasure.
“I don’t know, Dad, I can’t learn anymore.”
Dad showed a confused expression. For a while, the room was silent until my mother knocked on the door and called us to have dinner. I grabbed the rice in the bowl, looked at my father secretly, and looked at my mother. At night, I returned to the room with my schoolbag, and vaguely heard a quarrel outside.
“You indulge her too much. Look at cartoons, concerts, and stage plays. How can there be so many hobbies from high school students who are going to take the exam? You are not allowed to contact them in the future.”
“Suddenly, she can’t stand it. I will think of a way.”
“You just spoil her too much!”
I was standing behind the door, my eyes were so swollen and painful, I might really not be a little hippo.
In the morning, my father asked me to go hiking together. I followed him, unhurriedly, and ran slowly towards the top of the mountain. We passed the West Lake, ran over the long bridge, and over the hills. After returning home, my mother and I announced that I would run in the morning. As expected, my mother snorted slightly. I didn’t protest or refute this time. I just dig out my sportswear silently.
One day, two days, three days; one week, two weeks, three weeks; one month, two months, three months…
I gradually fell in love with the morning sun, the unevaporable dew, the unwake-up city, all the unhappy and unhappy things melted into the air with the dripping sweat. I became the first person to come to the classroom, sitting in an empty classroom, watching the golden sunlight shed on my book, page after page, the original messy and complicated knowledge gradually became clear, and they were connected to each other. Intersect each other and become the most magical tree. It turned out that I was running too fast at the beginning, so I just rushed forward, forgetting that there are so many trees on the road that pave the way for me.
The more I grow up, the more people say that I am like a father. We made an appointment to study foreign languages together, he learns German, and I learn Japanese; we made an appointment to write reading notes together, he was on the blog, and I was on Douban; we made an appointment for a morning jog together, one big and one young, one old and one young . We walked side by side, just as my father took the little me back then.
I still have a lot of dreams: I want to be a member of the subtitle group, I want to be a dream weaver who writes stories, and I want to be the most powerful foodie. They all believe that I can make them a reality one day, because I have a father who looks like a hippo, and I am the daughter of the hippo most like him.