People who are willing to go home for dinner

By my side, more and more people came home to eat.
My friend Lao Xu told his wife last month that he would accompany his family to eat at least 200 meals a year. This is a goal he has set himself, and it is also a life of happiness for him.
Three months ago, Lao Xu’s wife had a serious illness and almost got a notice of critical illness. In those days, old Xu Cai, who shuttled through social activities all day long, stopped and took good care of his wife.
In the hospital, old Xu grabbed his wife’s hand and said: “when you get well, I will treat you well and accompany you to travel all over the great rivers and mountains of this country …” the wife shook her head and said: “husband, no need, I only want you to accompany me and my son to eat more meals in one year.” Old Xu calculated a sum of money. There are more than 1,000 meals a year. He really did not accompany his wife and children to eat 100 meals. Last year, he ate at home a pitifully few times, no more than 50 meals. Whenever I see my husband rushing out of the house, I call him with great anticipation to let him go home for dinner and drink the yam sparerib soup she stewed in the casserole for him, he has stomach trouble. But he always said he was busy and wanted to socialize.
Is it really necessary to entertain people? Looking back, he found that some occasions, under the guise of entertainment, were actually wasted time by a few boring people drinking, eating meat and stirring up emotions. All of a sudden, he was tired of the light entertainment.
Old Xu talked with me. What is the purpose of his continuous earning money? I said, “Share with the dearest.” He woke up suddenly and said: “ah, I call my wife with tens of thousands of yuan each month, but I seldom see her smile. I can’t see her happy expression, but more is her bitter eyes.”
I told him that Fourth Master Chang in Teahouse said that he earned a lot of money and lived a life with a bottom line. Live a life with a bottom line, that sentence suddenly touched him.
The friend suddenly realized, “Money is unlimited, but the time to eat with family is limited. Even if we have been together for 60 years, it is only over 20,000 days. ” To accompany his family to eat 200 meals a year is what he wants to do, a life with a bottom line.
The problem of eating has changed my friend’s outlook on life. I can’t help thinking about myself. Do I eat 200 meals a year with my closest relatives?
Every time I go home, when I open the door, I smell the fragrance. It was a virtuous wife who changed her ways to stew and cook soup for me and my children. In the most upscale restaurants, how come I don’t feel this kind of refreshing taste? It turns out that the crowd is bustling, with a mess of cups and plates, but there is no smell of home there.
I once said to my wife that the food in the family is the most delicious, which makes her happy. My QQ signature is also: quiet days, millet gruel life. However, I was once tired of eating with my wife and children at home. I saw so many powerful people, rich and famous local tyrants, drinking foreign wine and eating abalone. My mind was out of balance. I joined their banquet and said some flattery against my will. Those days passed before I realized that the people I loved the most had become insincere and evasive. It turned out that it was the bad food that made me indigestion, gastrointestinal disorder and confusion in my thinking.
When I fell in love with eating at home, our husband and wife became stronger and stronger in the years. I think we are tasting the common food together. In the loving air and breathing, the husband and wife slowly overlap, cover and blend.
In front of my eyes, my mother often appeared on the balcony waiting for me to go home for dinner. My mother is almost 70 years old, and her rickets make me come to her hard sometimes. She and her father live in the old city house and are often relatively silent. Only when I went home to have dinner with them did my mother stand by and have endless words to say.
My mother has cooked meals for my father all her life, and my father has never blamed my mother for the bad food. I grew up eating my mother’s meals. After I had my own home, how many meals did I eat with my father and mother in one year? When I came home on May 1 this year, my father and I had a little drink before he secretly told me, “Your mother, I wish you would come back for dinner every day.” Looking at my mother staggering and busy in the kitchen, I suddenly want to cry.

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