Лекция: IV. Translate these phrases and recall the episodes with them.
— to take an accounting
— to do smth with minimal reminding
— to take smth on
— to grate on the nerves
— to give an allowance
— in the short run
— in the long run
— to underestimate smth
— to put smth away
— to make smth worthwhile
— yuck chores
— gadgets
— sporadic
— junk
V. Answer the questions:
1. Why is an accounting necessary? Why should we be honest in it?
2. Does doing everything for the children spare you problems?
3. Why are we advised not to underestimate our children’s abilities?
4. How can we make the work easier for our children?
5. What housework can four and seven-year-olds perform?
6. What tasks can 11 and 18-year-olds be burdened with?
7. How can we make housecleaning interesting for our children?
Text 3.
Henry was getting on her nerves…
Jean had been looking forward to her husband’s retirement, but it wasn’t working out as she’d hoped.
He was driving her mad. Her beloved husband, Henry, had been irritating her from the very first day of his retirement. Jean had been looking forward to when they could do all the things together they’d talked about but had never found time for when Henry was working as a progress controller in the local plastics factory. He’d been offered the chance of early retirement at 55 and had regarded it as a reward for his past services. But really it was just another name for redundancy, or down-sizing as they call it nowadays.
Still the redundancy package was pretty good, and the pension would help to keep them in reasonable comfort for the rest of their lives. Of course they might have to make one or two little savings, like a new car every five years, instead of every three, but their financial position wasn’t too bad. Or at least, so she thought…
“Why don’t you buy the cheaper cans of peas and the own-brand detergent?” asked Henry, as he trailed behind his wife on their twice-weekly visit to the supermarket. “And we can’t afford chocolate biscuits any more. Or perhaps we should cut out biscuits altogether and get used to a healthy diet.” Jean knew that a “healthy diet” was just another name for money-saving – getting rid of the little luxuries like ice-cream, king prawns and the occasional bottle of wine. But she kept quiet and had to admit that her weekly shopping bill did go down by almost $30.
Then Henry started taking an avid interest in all the housework – supervising the way she did it. Time and motion study, he called it. “It’s just like when I was at work, making sure everything progressed smoothly and logically from A to Z.” he told her. “Take washing-up, for instance. If you get the correct flow of goods from the dining table to the kitchen sink, to the draining board, to the cupboards, then you won’t be back-tracking all the time, picking up the odd plate here and the extra saucer there. It makes things so much easier and quicker.” What would make it even-easier, she thought, would be a dishwasher.
Jean hoped that in time Henry would find a hobby or sport that would take him out of the house for a few hours every other day. (She suggested joining his retired friends on the golf course or the Bowling Green, but he rejected the idea.) “If I want to walk, I can do so without having to hit a silly little ball or bowl a huge one. Besides, I like to be around for when you need me.” And he was around -everywhere … Looking over her shoulder as she peeled the potatoes, checking the time she spent on the telephone, and asking if it was necessary for her to use the car just to go to the corner shop for a pint of milk. “It costs more in petrol and wear and tear on the engine and tyres than the cost of a pint of milk, dear,” he explained.
His explanations were always so logical, so indisputable that she wanted to scream. Instead, she went to coffee mornings, flower arranging, Tupperware parties and anything else that got her out of the house. But what she needed was a more permanent solution. It came quite by accident.
She arrived home one afternoon from her flower-arranging class to find the window cleaner forlornly stacking his ladder back on his van while Henry watched, arms folded. When she asked the window-cleaner what was wrong, he just shrugged his shoulders and drove away. ”Do you realize how much money you spend by having a window-cleaner?” demanded Henry, as his wife walked up the drive. ”Umm… $8.50 a month.” “Precisely – and that’s more than $100 a year. Multiplied, say, 30 years, and allowing for increases, that’s more than $3000.” “It did sound a lot,” agreed Jean. Nevertheless the windows needed cleaning and she had no intention of climbing up the ladder herself, “No need,” said Henry. “Now that I am here all day, I can do the top windows while you do the bottom ones.” There was no arguing with him in that mood. She let him struggle with the old wooden ladder, which was kept by the garage, while she fetched a bucket with hot soapy water and a sponge. Then she stood at the bottom of the ladder and watched Henry climb, step by careful step, carrying the bucket in his right hand and clinging to the ladder with his left.
With surprising agility for a man of 55, he cleaned the left-hand window, and then leant across to reach the other side. Jean thought it would be safer to move the ladder to the right, but she knew Henry wouldn’t think that an efficient use of time. So she kept quiet as she watched his foot slip on the slimy rung… and saw him crash headfirst on to the concrete path below.
The funeral was a well-organized affair. Henry would have been pleased with the way his wife had arranged everything, from the chapel of rest to the funeral cortege, the burial ceremony and the plot facing towards the plastics factory where Henry had spent so many efficient years. The whole operation was a fitting tribute to a progress controller.
After the funeral, the first thing Jean did was get rid of that old wooden ladder with its rotten rungs. Then she ordered a dishwasher from the electrical shop and drove from there to the supermarket to buy the little luxuries she needed for an enjoyable dinner party.