This evening, just as it was getting dark, our family held an informal mock trial. The star of the trial was our one-meter-nine clever and cute Lilina—of course, that's what she calls herself. And presiding over the trial was our wise, mighty, and benevolent national leader—of course, that's what I call myself.
The theme of the trial was whether a certain irresponsible little girl, who has a habit of spurting nonsense and causing trouble, should be punished with a week of salted cabbage and pancakes.
Lilina sat obediently on a small stool, looking down at her toes like a wronged little wife. If she had a handkerchief, she could play the part of a poor maid sold into a rich family in a melodrama, constantly beaten and scolded. Sitting around her in a semicircle, my Big Sister and I, along with other family members, were giving this mischievous girl a full-on lesson in character education.
