I had the meanest mother in the world. While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs and toast. Others had cokes and candy for lunch, while we had to eat a sandwich. As you can guess, my supper was different than the other kids’. But at least I was not alone in my suffering. My sister and two brothers had the same mean mother as I did. My mother insisted on knowing where we were at all times. She had to know who our friends were and what we were doing. We had to wear clean clothes every day. Other kids always wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of disgrace because she made our clothes herself, just to save money. The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by 9:00 each night and up at 7:45 the next morning. So while my friends slept, my mother actually had the courage to break Child Labor Law. She made us work. I believed she lay awake all night thinking up mean things to do to us. Through the years, our friends’ report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for failing. My mother, however, would merely be content with black marks. None of us was allowed the pleasure of being a dropout. She forced us to grow up into educated and honest adults. Using this as a background, I’m now trying to bring up my three children. I’m filled with pride when my children think I am mean because now I thank God every day for giving me the meanest mother in the world. 小题1:Which of the following things did the writer hate to do most?
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