Mother: David, come here.
David: Yes, mum.
Mother: You really disappoint me. Your results are getting worse.
David: But I will only get my report book tomorrow.
Mother: I know that, but I''m going Hong Kong tomorrow so I''m scolding you now.
I''ve written a poem for you: Twinkle twinkle little star, you should know what you are, and once you know what you are, Mental hospital is not so far.