爸爸嗜烟如命，据他自己说，他上初二时就学上抽烟了，这一抽就二十五年。爸爸抽烟虽不分好丑，几十元的高档烟他抽，一元多的低档烟他也抽；但他能分出烟的好丑和真假来。爸爸的口袋里可以没有钱，但肯定有烟和打火机，我们家到处都有烟和大火机，客厅有，卧室有，厨房有，厕所也有。只要他在家，家里就是烟雾缭绕，家里的空气适宜指数绝对低于沙尘暴笼罩下的北京城。
我和妈妈每天都有几小时生活在尼古丁的魔爪下，深知二手烟危害的妈妈经常劝爸爸戒烟，可爸爸却说：“要我戒烟就等于要我的命，我一天不吃饭可以，但一分钟不抽烟就没法活。”我也经常举吸烟的各种可怕后果给他听，可他总是说：“*主席抽了一辈子烟，还活八十多岁；英国首相丘吉尔是大烟鬼，还活九十多岁。”真拿他没办法。
今年我六年级，作业量骤然增多了，每天晚上都要做很长时间。妈妈为了让我不着急，就会坐在一旁陪着我。那天晚上，外婆生病了，妈妈要陪外婆，而陪我的人物落到爸爸身上。爸爸也学着妈妈一样坐在我一旁，那股浓烈的烟味在他靠近我的瞬间就直灌我的心肺。他又连忙掏出香烟和打火机，点燃一根悠闲地抽起来，我真受不了，被呛得咳嗽个不停。爸爸还不以为然，并催促我快做。我知道让他熄掉烟是不可能的，就心生一计，把他的香烟和打火机拿过来，也学着他的样子点了一支烟。这下可把爸爸惊住了，我对他说：“今后只要你抽一支，我也抽一支。”爸爸只好把烟狠狠地摁在烟灰缸里。
说来还真怪，爸爸现在不抽烟了，家里的烟也不见踪影了。
His father was a smoker, and he himself said that he had smoked in the first two years of his life, for twenty-five years. His father smokes a lot of ugly, a few dozen of the high-grade smoke he draws, a more than one yuan of low-grade smoke he also draws; But he was able to separate the smoke from the ugly and the real. Dad can pocket without money, but there must be some smoke and cigarette lighter, our house is filled with smoke and big lighters, in the living room, a bedroom, a kitchen, toilet, too. As long as he is home, there is a cloud of smoke around the house, and the air in the home is well below the city of Beijing, which is under a sandstorm.
My mother and I have a few hours every day life under the clutches of nicotine, know that second-hand smoke mother often advised dad to quit smoking, but dad said: "want me to quit smoking is to my life, I one day can not eat, but not smoking can't live in a minute." I also often a variety of dire consequences for smoking to him, but he always says, "chairman MAO * smoke smoked all his life, live more than eighty years old; the British prime minister Winston Churchill is opium addict, also lived more than ninety years." There's nothing he can do.
This year, I'm in sixth grade, and my homework is up a lot. I have to do it for a long time every night. My mother would sit beside me to keep me in no hurry. That night, my grandmother was ill and my mother was going to be with my grandmother. My father, too, was sitting on my side, like mother, and the strong smell of smoke filled my heart and lungs as he approached me. He took out his cigarette and lighter and lit a leisurely cigarette. I could not bear it. Dad didn't think so, and urged me to do it. I knew that it was impossible to get him out of the smoke, and he had a plan to get his cigarette and lighter and learn how he looked like a cigarette. I said to him, "as long as you smoke one, I'll smoke one." Dad had to press the smoke into the ashtray.
Strange to say, father is not smoking now, and the smoke in the house is gone.
