童年,像记忆的海岸,浪花把记忆冲上沙滩;童年,像一幅水墨画,画满了童年之事;童年,还像一本记录了无数欢笑的书。我坐在窗边,慢慢地想,打开这本回忆的书……那时,我还没上小学,和许多与我同龄的小朋友一样,没有学习班的约束,可以自由自在地玩耍。一个炎热的下午,我待在家里,实在太无聊了,便抓起电话本,找到曾好家的电话,小手在电话机上一摁,打通了电话:“曾好,下来玩不?我们去小林道(院子里的小朋友把池塘叫做小林道)玩吧!”“嗯!”曾好同意了。我飞快地中下楼,又叫上了芊子姐、优优妹一 Childhood, like the memory of the coast, the waves washed the beach; childhood, like an ink painting, full of childhood; childhood, but also a book recorded countless laughter. I sat by the window, thinking slowly and opening the book of memories ... At that time, I was not in elementary school, and like many children of my age, I could play freely without the constraints of study classes. A hot afternoon, I stay at home, it is too boring, and then grabbed the phone book, find a good home phone, a small hand on the phone a 摁, get through the phone: “Well, come down or not? We go Kobayashi Road (the children of the yard called the pond Kobayashi Road) to play! ”“ Ah! ”Have agreed. I am flying fast downstairs, also called on the child sister, excellent excellent girl one