Быть Матерью — трудная работа. Еще

Быть Матерью — трудная работа. Еще труднее быть матерью и работать. У моей сестры два сына, и она работает переводчиком в туристической фирме. Она хорошо зарабатывает, но и работает она много. Работа ее мужа связана с командировками, и он редко бывает дома. Так что я часто помогаю сестре и сижу со своими племянниками. Сестра с мужем накопили достаточно денег и купили дом на окраине города с небольшим участком, где наши мальчишки могут играть без больших волнений для нас. В прошлое воскресенье я сидела с ними, так как муж сестры, как всегда, был в командировке, а сестра работала с какой-то иностранной группой. Я сидела на скамейке перед домом, читала и изредка поглядывала на племянников. Они играли в войну. Было около пяти часов. Подъехала машина, сестра вышла из нее и вошла во двор. Один из мальчишек выстрелил в нее из пистолета и закричал: «Ты убита!» Сестра рухнула на траву. Мы засмеялись. Прошло несколько минут, а она все лежала. Я подбежала к ней проверить, не ушиблась ли она. Когда я склонилась над ней, она открыла один глаз и прошептала: «Не выдавай меня, это мой единственный шанс отдохнуть сегодня!»

Результаты (английский) 1:

Being a mother is hard work. Even harder to be a mother and work. My sister's two sons, and she works as a translator in tourist firm. It earns, but it works a lot. Her husband's work is connected with business trips, and he is rarely home. So I often help sister and sitting with his nephews. Sister and her husband have amassed enough money and bought a House on the outskirts of the city with a small plot, where our boys can play without big turbulence for us. This past Sunday I was sitting with them because husband sisters, as always, was on a business trip, and sister worked with any foreign group. I sat on a bench in front of the House, read and occasionally glanced at the nephews. They played in the war. It was about five hours. A car, my sister came out of it and entered the courtyard. One of the boys shot the gun at her and yelled, "you killed!" Sister collapsed on the grass. We laughed. It took a few minutes, but she is still lying. I ran to her to check if she hurt herself. When I leaned over her, she opened one eye and whispered, "don't give me away, it's my only chance to relax today!"

Результаты (английский) 2:

Being a mother - hard work. Even more difficult it is to be a mother and work. My sister has two sons, and she works as a translator in the tourist company. She earns well, but it works a lot. Work associated with her husband's business trips, and he rarely home. So I often help my sister and I sit with my nephews. My sister and her husband have accumulated enough money and bought a house on the outskirts of the city with a small area, where our boys could play without great excitement for us. Last Sunday, I was sitting with them, because my sister's husband, as always, was on a business trip, and my sister worked with some foreign group. I sat on a bench in front of the house, reading and occasionally glanced at his nephew. They played in the war. It was about five o'clock. A car drove up, got out of her sister and went into the yard. One of the boys shot her with a pistol and shouted: "You killed!" Sister collapsed on the grass. We laughed. A few minutes passed, and she was lying. I ran to her to check if she had hurt herself. When I bent over her, and she opened one eye and whispered: "Do not betray me, this is my only chance to have a rest now!"

Результаты (английский) 3:

being a mother is hard work. even harder to be a mother and to work. my sister has two son, and she works as a translator in a tourism company. she makes a good living, but she works hard. her husband's job is to travel, and he is rarely home. so i often help my sister and i sit with my niece and nephew. my sister and her husband have accumulated enough money and bought a house on the outskirts of the city with a small area, where our kids could play with great excitement for us. last sunday, i sat with them, as her husband's sister, as always, was on a business trip, and my sister was working with a foreign group. i sat on the bench in front of the house, read and occasionally looking out for my nieces. they played in the war. it was about five hours. a car, my sister got out and walked into the yard. one of the boys shot her pistol and shouted: "you killed! "sister fell on the grass. we laughed. it's been a few minutes and she's lying. i ran up to her, to see if she's okay. when i bent over her, she opened one eye and whispered, "don't tell on me, this is my only chance to rest today. "