Mother said: "The third grade is the embodiment of three years' struggle." The teacher said, "Grade three is the key to middle school." The classmate said, "The third grade is a locked pagoda." I said, "The third grade is a colorful color." The third day is-

black

Life in grade three is very monotonous. Life at three o'clock every day, the fat schoolbag weighs me out of breath. I wake up every morning to see a mountain of books and exercise books. That messy x, y, z, that boring positive and negative proportional function, I dream about that complicated physics competition every night, and I'm still mumbling. The third grade is God's black humor.

red

The third grade exam is more than the number of times we go to the toilet. Two days for quizzes and three days for big exams. Every time I send a volume, I feel uneasy and disappointed The bright red cross on the test paper, the ruthless score, the bruise on the arm after returning home, and the red line of this road constitute a helpless and beautiful scenery in the third year of life.

golden

After every success, standing on the high podium, golden medals, bright awards, and golden halo around me filled my life with golden sunshine, hope and inner joy.

transparent color

There are many opportunities in the life of grade three, but they are all invisible and invisible. Opportunities will not come to you, but you will take the initiative to find opportunities. Someone once said, "Opportunities are for those who are prepared." If you are not careful, the opportunity will slip away from you quietly. When you lose an opportunity, don't blame others, only blame yourself for not paying attention and not exploring this transparent opportunity with your heart. Life is not without opportunities, but without eyes to find opportunities.

The change of grade three brings us rich life. If we cherish the colorful life in Grade Three and grasp the opportunities everywhere in life, we will become the winners in life.

My junior high school life

Some people say that life in grade three is not a human life, but full of competition and gunpowder. Is it? I don't think so.

At school, the class is still going on, the teacher is still talking, and it is still sunny and rainy outside the window. Every day, I still touch the ball and sweat all over, then I ride my bike and go home with a string of crisp and pleasant bells.

At home, however, it seems completely different. My third son seems to have suddenly become a little emperor. Mom and dad are all by my side, one is dedication and the other is death. Who cares? It's good to be a little emperor. Isn't it icing on the cake to have two "promises" around?

Mom and dad seem to have divided their work. One is in charge of the morning and the other is in charge of the evening. Change everything early, and dinner will be more colorful. They said, "On the third day, we should refuel and recharge." I really admire their desperate thinking and efforts. However, I sincerely

Enjoy the true meaning of life-beauty. After breakfast and dinner, I always touch my bulging belly and imitate Kong Old Master Q and say, "Everything is ready for me."

When eating, I thought about geometry in the circle of the bowl, and then put chopsticks in the bowl as line segments. Mom and dad don't know. They're really scared. Mom blames dad for the outdated variety of dishes, and dad blames mom for standing by and doing everything wrong. It was not until I solved the problem and had a good time that they suddenly realized that they enjoyed it and were more excited than me. Dad reached out and asked me what the topic was, what I thought, and wanted to enter my "promised land". He accidentally dropped the spoon and broke it in half. In principle, mom and dad will definitely have a spark. This time, my mother bent down happily to pick it up and threw it into the trash can.

One Sunday, my father got a set of papers from somewhere, saying that they were issued by a key middle school, and he would be rewarded with 20 yuan when he finished. I thought to myself, how can this miser be willing to pluck his hair? I must pluck his hair today. So I "squeaked" for a while and finished, lying in bed watching the "Science Fair". Dad will look at the paper in doubt when he comes in, and look at me in doubt. I held out my hand, and the "Iron Rooster" finally took out two pieces of "Great Unity" with trembling.

Getting up in the morning, my mother has been acting a little strange these days. I didn't notice it at first, but it was gradually proved. One day, as usual, she came to wake me up. Actually, I'm awake. I just don't want to open my eyes. Suddenly my mother gave me a kiss, which was very heavy. I jumped out of bed and shouted, "What's the matter? Men and women are not close. " Mom was scared to death, and it took a long time to come to her senses. She argued, "What? Can't? When I was a child, you kissed me every day and told me to kiss you! " Mom is a little angry. I said, "that was the past, and now I'm a man!" " "

Life in grade three has just begun, and the taste in the palace is getting stronger and stronger. Sometimes I want to say, "Come on, it's not good to live a normal life." A book I read recently said, "Learning to accept is also a kind of generosity and nobility." Since there is such a theory, I will follow the rules.

[opinion]

By the third day, my position at home had changed and I suddenly became a little emperor. The author vividly describes the material enjoyment and spiritual life of "affluence" with teasing language, relaxed brushwork and almost funny plot, which shows the helplessness that the author has to passively "accept" while thinking about "normal" life. This is a typical junior high school student family, which is very common.

[example]

A three-year-old month

I was thinking ... at the beginning of the third semester, the teacher said, "Students should greet senior three with full emotions." I really can't figure out why the word "welcome" is used. Its taste is really …

With the sour taste of old vinegar.

Suddenly, I found that I was scolded less by my parents, because I no longer climbed into bed early, and my limbs depended on a stiff office chair instead of a warm and comfortable bed. I said there would be no dream comfort in my life. The teacher said it doesn't matter. Don't you have strong coffee and strong will? What's more, that pile of paper is your bright future. I'm like a jiaozi. In the third year, the sour taste that has penetrated into the heart and lungs has aggravated the delicious taste of jiaozi. You tasted it, and although you were shivering with acid, your back was straight. This acidity and firmness may be welcome.

With the pungent smell of spirits.

During the break after each exam, I do an "electronic orienteering" between the math teacher's office and the English teacher's office. The math teacher will talk earnestly; "You can't just focus on your interest in anything. You have to work hard on this math ... "; English is ancient.

The teacher will say, "Yes, yes, but your strength is normal ..." Joy and sadness come at me at the same time, so I have to open a gap in my heart and only squeeze in words that can affect me. I am the product of the intensification of the contradiction between arts and sciences. I can only carefully control the wheel of my life, so as not to be taken to the dark deep sea by any undercurrent. I don't want to be hit by unsatisfactory math scores again and again. My character just doesn't give up. After drinking this cup of hard liquor in the third grade, I was like a drunk, although I was very drunk.

Fine bondage, but unwilling to give up its spicy taste, willing to exchange failure for success again and again. This spicy enthusiasm for the top of the skull may be welcome.

Spit out with the enthusiasm of Pepsi.

It became my habit to have a bottle of coke every day in the third grade. I like the long sound of gas when unscrewing the bottle cap, sometimes accompanied by a little foam dripping down my fingers. When enjoying cola during the break, it is also the most lively time, and students can be seen posing.

A cool figure, choking out a hoarse voice in the middle of the classroom ... My love is like a fire, burning the whole desert ... "-although he has never even smelled love; At this time, I often squeeze into the crowd, or

Make a mess with a few female classmates, or talk to a few "net bugs" about the hypocrisy and truth of the network-although we haven't been online for months, we almost forgot what the keyboard looks like ... At this time, the third year is like that bottle.

From time to time, there is a passionate cola. Even if there is pressure to study, once the pressure is relaxed, the enthusiasm contained in it will pop up like a bubble. The third year has the vigor of our youth, which may be welcome.

The third year gave us difficulties, and we groped for progress at the first door of life; The third year gave us spiritual maturity, and we learned that the difficulty lies not in paying, but in paying, it is often several times the harvest; The third year of the year

Thank us for our love of life and cherish every second squeezed through our fingers … these are enough for us to meet it and cherish it.

The taste of the third year is really wonderful, it only happens once. I blinked, chewing the flavor of the book. ...