爸爸的大手

我每次来到爸爸的店铺，看到的都是一片狼藉:泛着油光的工具;黑漆漆的地面;冷冰冰的机器，还有那唯一的一张，孤零零躲在角落里掉皮的沙发。

爸爸正忙着，我一眼就看见他那双黑黝黝的手在机器的部件上翻来覆去，那是怎样的一双手?脏!只有在指甲盖上依稀看得出透明的浅色。油!五个手指和小臂都泛着亮晶晶的光。有力!裸露的手背青筋毕露，手臂肌肉条理清晰。

爸爸看见我直起身，捡起地上的抹布擦了擦手，就想摸摸我的头，我迅速躲开了，眼中的嫌弃没有来得及收回。他尴尬地收回手，清了一下嗓子:“还没吃午饭吧?”

厨房也是黑黑的一片，我皱紧了眉。爸爸快速地洗手洗锅刷碗，我看着他一连洗了多遍，手上的皮都泛白了，油脂还是残留在手指缝中，他转身戴了一副手套，回头笑着对我说:“这样就不脏了!”

爸爸做了两碗简单的面条，上面飘着几根青菜，盖着一只黄灿灿的荷包蛋。他蹲着，手指上下挑着面条快速吃着。我坐在店里唯一一张沙发上才吃了两口，他就起身干活去了，边说:“吃完碗放着，我来洗!”

爸爸的手一碰到那些零件又脏了，仿佛刚才那略微见白的皮肤只是我的错觉，我看着他娴熟的大手拆掉车子上的每一个零件，汗水蜿蜒着在手臂上，留下一道道浅黑深黑的印子，滴到地上，黑漆漆的地面有那么瞬间开了一朵白色的小花。

我忽然吃不下了，放下碗，我冲到爸爸面前，拿起工具学着他的样子拆装。他瞬间不知道该如何反应了，不知所措的抢着我手中的工具:“不要你弄，脏!你去复习功课去!”我倔强的干着，似乎这样能减少我的内疚，不知是不是我的错觉，爸爸的眼眶好像湿润了!

一大一小两双男子汉的手都忙碌着，我的手也变成黑黑脏脏的，爸爸的大手却顺眼多了!

英语翻译

Every time I come to Dad’s shop, what I see is a mess: greasy tools; dark lacquered ground; cold machinery, and the only sofa hiding in the corner with peeling skin. .

Dad was busy, and I saw his dark hands turning over the parts of the machine at a glance. What kind of hands were they? Dirty! Only the light, transparent color was faintly visible on the fingernails. Oil! Five fingers and forearms glowed brightly. Powerful! The naked back of the hand is full of veins, and the arm muscles are well-organized.

When Dad saw me straight up, picked up the rag on the floor and wiped my hands, he wanted to touch my head. I quickly avoided, and the disgust in his eyes did not have time to withdraw. He retracted his hand in embarrassment and cleared his throat: "You haven't had lunch yet, right?"

The kitchen was also dark, and I frowned. Dad quickly washed his hands, washed pots and dishes. I watched him wash his hands many times in a row. The skin on his hands was white and the grease still remained in the crevices of his fingers. He turned around and put on a pair of gloves. He turned around and smiled to me. : "So it won't be dirty!"

Dad made two bowls of simple noodles, with a few green vegetables floating on them, and a yellow poached egg on top. He squatted, picking up the noodles with his fingers and eating quickly. I took two bites while sitting on the only sofa in the store. He got up and went to work. He said, "After eating the bowl, let me wash it!"

When Dad’s hand touched those parts, it was dirty again, as if the slightly pale skin just now was just my illusion. I watched his skillful hand remove every part of the car, sweat snaking on his arm, leaving it behind. The next light black and deep black marks dripped onto the ground, and a small white flower bloomed on the black lacquer ground for an instant.

Suddenly I couldn't eat anymore, put down the bowl, I rushed to my father, picked up the tools and tried to disassemble it like him. He didn't know how to react in an instant, and at a loss, he grabbed the tool in my hand: "Don't make it dirty! Go and review your homework!" I stubbornly did it, as if it could reduce my guilt, I don't know why. It's not my illusion, dad's eye sockets seem to be moist!

The hands of a large and a small man were busy, and my hands became dark and dirty, but Dad's big hands were much more pleasing to the eye!