Every Chinese New Year, my father spends his time playing mahjong with some of his friends, and this year is of course no exception. Several people agreed to come to my father’s house to play mahjong at seven in the evening.
It’s eight o’clock in the evening, and those friends of my father have not come yet, so my father has no choice but to stay with my mother to watch the Spring Festival Gala.
Father: “What the hell are these bastards doing? They haven’t come so late.”
Mother: “For those who are celebrating the New Year, maybe they are busy with things, they should come after they are busy.”
Father nodded.
“Ping Ping Ping”
The door was knocked.
“Look, isn’t it here?” Mother said.
Father did not speak, but still complained on his face. He opened the window and cursed: “You bastards, why are you here until now?”
The knock on the door stopped immediately, and there was no reply for a long time. About ten seconds later, a weak sentence came up: “It’s me.”
“Are they here?” the mother asked.
“No, it’s not them, it’s our dad who came up with the fruit.” Father blushed, lowered his head, and his voice was so small that it was hard for him to hear clearly.