Maternal love, always around us, may have been the most common feeling. But just recently, I suddenly found that sometimes maternal love can't be understood. It's really strange. But in the end, I realized something unexpected.
I remember not long ago, Dad came home with a big bag of medicine. Dad calmly took them out one by one: two small bottles, a bag of cotton swabs, a bottle of iodophor, a bag of unknown liquid, plus a needle. Who is this injection for? If you think about it carefully, I haven't had any problems recently, so it's just mom.
In fact, my mother has been suffering from a disease on her leg and has seen a doctor. The doctor said that this kind of disease only needs to recuperate quietly, rest for a week or two will be fine naturally. However, as a mother, she has to do a lot of housework at noon every day. In addition, she has to go to work, and what she does at work is just some trivial things of logistics. So the leg disease dragged on again and again, and finally came to the point of injection.
My father is a doctor, so he naturally took the task of injection. Dad adjusted the medicine, pushed the piston, and a drop of medicine came out of the needle. When I look back at my mother, I see that her face is sad and her eyes are dim, but she seems to be full of contradictions and hesitation. How strange! If the needle, then how much pain should mother reduce, why hesitate? I was about to ask, but my father's needle had touched my mother's skin, so I had to stop talking.
Mother subconsciously blocked dad's hand, as if thoughtful, worried about something. How strange! Mom is not afraid of pain at ordinary times. How about this time? Finally, mom stopped. Dad will hold the needle hand gently shaking, the needle will obediently into the mother's skin. My father pushed the piston skillfully, big and tall as if he were holding a bubble that was about to burst. I saw the white suspension slowly into my mother's blood vessels. I think my mother can finally get rid of the pain. I feel happy for my mother in my heart.
Who knows, mother suddenly asked a worried face: "really can't work?" It's as if a child is seeking to negotiate. How strange! Instead of congratulating herself for getting rid of the torment, mother worried about her work. Father calmly said: "rest assured, just two or three days." This makes me even more confused.
Later, I learned that when this needle was inserted into my mother's skin, although my mother's leg disease could be improved, she could not exercise violently within two or three days, otherwise the efficacy would fail. This is also the source of my mother's worry. It turns out that my mother is worried that if she can't work in two or three days, it will drag us down. That's why she is so worried!
At this time, I seem to see a drop of blood the size of rice from my mother's wound through the cotton ball, issued a dazzling light. At this time, I understand that this must be the true glory of the so-called "strange maternal love"!