And Jian Anning belongs to this type -not to mention, she and Yu Zexiao have not married and have no children yet.
"Come on, Yangyang is good, come here."
The lobby of the Mo family was cleaned up. In the wide hall, cashmere blankets were covered on the middle floor, and a soft plastic foam was surrounded by a small competition venue. There were many small gadgets on the track.
There are toys, books, small brushes, and eating.
At the end of the track, there is a small fart, wearing tiger-headed shoes, tiger head hats, and fat ones.
A fart-stock sitting down, sitting in the middle of the track, staring at a pair of black grape-like eyes, unhappyly watching the adults who dangled around.
Here, adults keep clapping their hands, take out the wave drums, small toys, and so on, attract the attention of the little guy. And Mo Yangyang's children simply ignore them, only to sit alone at the starting point, and be alone.
The little bell in his hand was drooling and drooling, and he was very happy.
"Come, Yangyang, come here, my mother's side." It was still Zhao Ziyin. There was a way to have a hand on this side, holding his favorite thing in her hand -pacifiers, Mo Yangyang finally had a little response. Fatty.
Fat's little fart-moved the stock, and the meaty claws were still holding the little bell, and they thought about standing up. The fat legs worked hard for a long time, and they fell on the soft pad again.
Climb all the way, drill into the mother's arms quickly.
He didn't look at the fat, his chubby legs were energetic. After a few kicks, he climbed his mother. Zhao Ziyin also wanted to attract him to catch Zhou.
"Yangyang, come, pick one. What do you like, pick one." Zhao Ziyin touched the little guy's head to the caught things.
Knee, make a small mouth, cry.
"Baby, baby, don't cry, don't cry!" When Zhao Ziyin saw this big baby crying, he was a bit helpless. Grandma Liu Zixin immediately guided him: "Yangyang is good, see which is cute, what do you like, what do you like
? "She and Mo Yuhan, as well as aunt, Moss Yu, and Zhao Ziyin, who took one thing, put it in front of the little guy, and let him pick it. Mo Yangyang did not give him face.
Throw away, throwing a crying side. Little bells, brushes, abacus, etc. are also the same treatment. Finally, Zhao Ziyin took a pack of children with milling biscuits in his hands. Mo Yangyang was originally ready to throw it.
Alas, the sound, a smell, ah, incense, lick again, wow, delicious!
As a result, all the we weekly supplies are not useful. Mo Yangyang is holding a pack of biscuits to be happy.
The Mo family, and relatives and friends who came to watch the ceremony, all stayed. That is to say, Mo Yangyang did not like reading nor finance, and he didn't like to be officials. He was a foodie?
"Yangyang, do you want to change a individual selection?" Where can Mo Yuhan endure his grandson as a food? Want to grab the food in his paws.
In a moment, my mouth was full of water and fog. I cried again. I cried again.