My Mother the Hellion

佚名 / Anonymous

As a child I always wondered how my mother knew what I was up to. How did she know I had not done my homework， had been smoking (and in my parochial school uniform， too)， or had lied about where I had been and with whom？ They were such well-constructed and convincing lies. And they had taken me so long to concoct. Now， looking back， the answer is crystal-clear to me. My mother did not have eyes in the back of her head， nor did she have a needie-sharp sixth sense of perception. The plain， unvarnished truth is...my mother was a hellion in her own youth. My grandmother was not alive to share this information with me. My grandfather， chief of police in our small town， never incriminated anyone， including his daughter. I simply know this is the answer. How else could she know what I was thinking， what I had done， and what I planned to do if she had not already trod the same path herself？

Take for example， the time our neighbor’s canoe was stolen from their yard. Actually， “stolen” is too harsh a word. “Borrowed” is more accurate. With the assistance of my cousin we paddled across the river in the dark to participate in a clandestine meeting of our friends. Because of a slight miscalculation of the tides， we were unable to return until almost daybreak.

The canoe was immediately returned to its rightful owners. Okay， they claimed the side was bashed in. I prefer dinged. Stuff happens. My mother said she knew without a doubt I had been involved. I thought she had a lot of crust bandying my name about that way. The perpetrator could have been anyone.

And how about the time she insisted I had been driving her car when she had been away？ It certainly was not my fault the gas gauge was down. There could have been a leak. For heaven’s sake， I didn’t even have my license then. Or the dozens of other peccadilloes she laid at my door， like the cozy little get-togethers I had put up. We were scrupulously careful not to leave any traces， yet I was always found out. Parties in the woods， occasional absences from school， fast cars， a glorious weekend in New York City， using false ID and being caught by my-gulp-grandfather.

Okey， I admit there was some truth to that one， but I can explain， honest. Someone once said， “Experience is the best teacher.” This is turning out to be true. How else could I know what my own daughter is up to—the little sneak！

孩提時，我總是奇怪為什么媽媽總能知道我在打什么主意。比如，我沒做作業，吸煙（而且身穿教區校服），或撒謊去過哪兒以及和誰在一起，這些她都是怎么知道的？而那些謊言都是我精心編造的，非常令人信服。為了編造這些謊言，我花了很長的時間。如今回想起來，答案已經很明顯了。媽媽的后腦勺上并沒有長眼睛，也沒有無所不知的第六感。而再明白不過的事實就是，她年幼時也是個調皮鬼。外婆在世時，沒有告訴我這些。外公雖是我們小鎮的警察局長，但也從未控告過任何人，包括他的女兒。但我知道答案就是這樣。如果她沒有同樣的經歷，又怎會知道我在想什么，做過什么，打算干什么呢？

比如，有一次，鄰居家放在院里的獨木舟被偷了。說實話，用“偷”有點太苛刻了，還是用“借”比較準確。在表弟的幫助下，天黑時我們劃船過河，去參加朋友的秘密聚會。由于對潮水時間的計算有些誤差，我們幾乎天亮時才回來。

獨木舟馬上物歸原主了。對了，他們聲稱船弦被撞壞了。我寧愿受到數落，因為經常會發生這種糟糕的事。媽媽認為，我一定參與了。我想她敢到處嚷嚷，破壞我的名聲。不過，誰都有做這種事的嫌疑嘛。

而那次她堅持認為我趁她不在家時開了她的車，這又該怎么說呢？油箱里的油少了確實不是我的錯，也許是漏了。算我倒霉，那時我還沒有駕照呢。還有其他的一些小過失，她都會算在我的頭上，比如我安排的一個愜意的小聚會。我們非常小心謹慎，以免留下任何痕跡，但我還是總被發現。比如，在森林里的晚會，偶爾的逃學，飚車，在紐約過一個愉快的周末，以及用假身份證——噢——不過那次被我外公抓住了。

好吧，我承認最后那件事是有我的錯，但我可以誠實地解釋。有人曾說：“經驗是最好的老師。”確實是真理。不然現在我又怎么會知道自己的女兒在打什么鬼主意呢——這個小搗蛋！

記憶填空

1. They were such well-constructed and convincing . And they had taken me so long to concoct. Now， looking back， the is crystal-clear to me. My mother did not have in the back of her head， nor did she have a needie-sharp sixth sense perception.

2. the assistance of my cousin we paddled across the in the dark to participate in a clandestine of our friends. Because of a slight miscalculation of the tides， we were unable to until almost daybreak.

佳句翻譯

1. 媽媽的后腦勺上并沒有長眼睛，也沒有無所不知的第六感。

2. 如果她沒有同樣的經歷，又怎會知道我在想什么，做過什么，打算干什么呢？

3. 我們非常小心謹慎，以免留下任何痕跡，但我還是總被發現。

短語應用

1. As a child I always wondered how my mother knew what I was up to.

be up to：從事，忙于；勝任；該由……負責

2. For heaven’s sake， I didn’t even have my license then.

for heaven’s sake：看在上帝的份上；上帝保佑