I live with my parents and my grandmother. My grandmother is a kind elderly people. She likes talking and she always tells me stories of hers, my father's and mine. She is full filled with memories. She told me that I was quiet and docile when I was little. My parents went to work all day, and my grandmother took care of me and my cousin. After she fed me, I sat and played myself. She didn't have to worry much about me. I almost made no troubles. But my cousin was not. He never sat well or ate his food tactfully. My grandmother had to always keep an eye on him to prevent making troubles. But, there was one thing drove her crazy. That was I didn't like going to school. When I was at the school age, my parents sent me to school. But I cried every morning when I arrived at school. They had to comfort me for a long time to bring me into classroom. After two or three months later, the situation became good. I like my grandmother sharing the stories with me. It makes me warm and beloved.
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