Mo Yangyang opened her little mouth, smiled at her mother, and said: "Mama, sister, pretty! Sister eats candy!"
Zhao Ziyin looked at her silly son wearing split pants, smiling foolishly, and desperately taking out the candy from his tiny pocket. She rubbed her forehead.
Oh no, this son inherited his father's flirtatiousness and his father's appetite, but whose intelligence-deficient genes did he inherit?
With his not-so-small brain capacity, can't he see that except for a change of clothes, even the little chair Little Sweet Potato is lying in hasn't changed? How can he not recognize that it's his brother who appeared in front of him just now?
"Speaking of which, I remember Xingxing was just like this back then." Just then, Shen Lanxiao called everyone to bring in the tea and snacks from the kitchen, followed by the dad brigade.
