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Memories of twelve years old
When I was twelve, I was in the fifth grade of primary school. At noon on a weekend, after dinner, I habitually told my family that I rode a small bamboo horse and rushed to my aunt's house to find my cousin to play with them.

I found a pile of wet sand in front of my aunt's house. This is the rain that just rained in the morning, which turned the original yellow fine sand into today's dark brown. I walked over gently, stood on tiptoe and looked down carefully. The raised sand was covered with a trace of water, just like a little mouse falling into the water. When it touched its belly gently, it spit out a big splash.

I squatted down with great interest and didn't dislike the sand that had just been ravaged by the sole. Reach into the bunker and grab a big piece of sand. Rub your hands for a while, and the sand ball becomes an oblate ball. But no matter how hard I try, the sand ball with water is like a piece of dough that has not been made yet, and it will never become a perfect ball, which makes people look awkward. So I threw it aside and turned to continue my game.

I am like a cheerful groundhog, squatting on the edge of the sand, regardless of the sand on my hands, tirelessly building my own nest; Just like an explorer who digs for treasure, he always hopes to find something in the sand next moment. I dug up a group of wet sand and threw it outside the sand cave, patting the cave wall from time to time to avoid the sudden collapse of the sand cave and digging out blue stones, broken shells, small crabs with big fingernails and so on. Take it out of the sand and put it at my feet one by one. My heart is full of harvest happiness. This feeling of happiness also stems from the sudden possession of an "underground castle" completely belonging to oneself. The bright handprints left on the sand surface are the most natural and childlike decoration.

I'm enjoying digging. Suddenly, a small piece of wet cement pavement was exposed under the sand, and I continued to dig twice, even to the end. There is not a small door or a hole in the ground under the sand, but it still can't quench my enthusiasm. Looking at a bunker that has been dug, I also dug another big pit next to it.

These two holes are very big in diameter and mouth, just like two small bamboo baskets. I stood by and took two deep breaths, full of pride. However, it is not time to have a rest, and then the most difficult project-"digging a tunnel". That's right. I'm going to break through two sand holes and try my best not to let them collapse. While holding the sand wall with my right index finger, I took out the sand with my left hand and reinforced the upper part of the sand wall. When my fingertips pierced the sand wall and got out of another bunker, my fingers flicked a few times, like a crab pliers waving wildly. This feeling is amazing, as if being stabbed through a layer of shackles deep inside, which makes people relax physically and mentally.

Continue to expand this text until it displays the correct size. I looked around, caught some ants trying to carry food, and gently put them in. I watched the ants crawling slowly on the wall of the cave from the inadaptability when they first fell, and one of them chose the direction of the tunnel very coincidentally. I watched it climb over bit by bit, and I was very much looking forward to what it would look like when it got out of the tunnel and saw the same bunker. Thinking of this scene, I just stood by and giggled.

"Hey, why don't you stay here and come in?" My aunt who went out to take out the garbage saw me standing on the edge of the sand pile and came over to say hello to me. Oh, my aunt found out! I quickly turned around and patted and rubbed my hand hard. There was a hurried "small sand rain" above the bunker. All this was seen by my aunt. "Great architect, are you finished? Come on in, my aunt just made sweet potato powder, and it's still hot. Come and have a bowl. " I blushed and obediently followed my aunt into the gate, washed my hands and sat at the table with my brother-in-law and cousin. Breathe a mouthful of sweet potato powder into your mouth, stop to drink Jianlibao from time to time, so that the gluten of sweet potato powder, the delicious ingredients and the sweet and sour drinks can be combined in one furnace. That kind of picture and taste is not to mention beauty.

Now that I think about it, I still feel that my mouth is full of saliva, which is a rare delicacy in the food I have eaten on weekdays. After many years, I still can't forget the joy of digging a bunker, and I also feel the hospitality of my aunt. These two feelings came to mind together, and I felt that that day was even more exciting.