Feng Qingxue had a few skewers of roasted vegetables, a little bit of chicken wings, and lamb skewers, leaving the rest to be devoured by Lu Jiang, who had also taken a stack of flatbreads from Qingxue to wrap around the lamb skewers.
"Daddy is a rice bucket!" Xibao giggled.
Curious after applying the snow cream, Fubao asked, "What's a bucket? That one?" She pointed at the water bucket next to them.
Feng Qingxue gave Xibao's head a pat, "Apologize to Daddy. Who taught you to say that?"
"Sorry, Daddy, I shouldn't have called you a rice bucket." In this regard, Xibao was quite obedient, apologizing immediately, then tattling, "Daddy, you can settle the score with Uncle Zhao, he's the one who told Dabao, saying that Daddy is a rice bucket who can eat so much, so much rice, and that's why Dabao got skinny from hunger."
Before they were three years old, the little ones would always speak so slowly, but now their little mouths chattered away like machine guns.
