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看着眼前千篇一律的白稀饭,白花花的一片,这个从小到大未曾变过的早饭,我忍不住抱怨出声:“怎么又是白稀饭?就不能换点新的花样吗?”外公正在给自己盛饭的手抖了一下,险些将稀饭抖落到外面。他只转过身来坐下吃稀饭,一言不发。我忍无可忍地把勺子一挥,换上运动鞋,出门自己买早饭去了。早晨的风刮得人瑟瑟发抖,小区前卖早饭的小商小贩倒是推着车热闹成一团。我快步走到一处卖煎饼的手推车前,要了一个夹肉馅的煎饼。我在摊前站着,等着做完。卖煎饼的是个和外公
Looked at the front of the monotonous white rice, white flowers, this small to never changed the breakfast, I can not help but complain loudly: “How is the white porridge? Can not change the new pattern?” The grandfather is shaking his own hands for a moment, almost shake off the porridge outside. He turned to sit down and eat porridge without saying a word. I can not stand the wave of the spoon, put on sports shoes, went out to buy their own breakfast. The wind blew in the morning people shivering, small businesses selling small businesses before breakfast is pushing the car bustling into a ball. I walked quickly to a pancake-selling cart and asked for a pancake with meat. I stood in front of the booth, waiting to finish. Selling pancakes is a grandfather