The Target

　　My cooking has always been the target of family jokes. One evening, as I prepared dinner a bit too quickly, the kitchen filled with smoke and the smoke detector went off. Although both of my children had received fire-safety training at school, they did not respond to the alarm. Annoyed, I stormed through the house in search of them.

　　I found them in the bathroom, washing their hands. Over the loud buzzing of the smoke alarm, I asked them to identify the sound.

　　"It's the smoke detector," they replied in unison.

　　"Do you know what that sound means?" I demanded.

　　"Sure," my oldest replied. "Dinner's ready."

　　我的燒飯手藝向來是家庭笑話的攻擊目標(biāo)。一天晚上，晚餐我準(zhǔn)備得有點(diǎn)兒太快了，廚房里充滿了煙，結(jié)果煙霧探查器報(bào)起警來。盡管我的兩個(gè)孩子都在學(xué)校里接受過防火安全訓(xùn)練，可是他們并沒有對(duì)報(bào)警聲作出反應(yīng)。我感到很惱火，滿幢房子亂沖尋找他們。 我在洗澡間找到他們，發(fā)現(xiàn)他們正在洗手。我的聲音蓋過了煙霧警報(bào)的嗡嗡聲，我叫他們辨別那聲音。

　　“是煙霧探查器，”他們異口同聲地說。

　　“你們知道那聲音意味著什么嗎?”我責(zé)問道。

　　“當(dāng)然，”我的大孩子回答道，“晚飯準(zhǔn)備好了。”