A. get into trouble
B. in trouble
C. have trouble
D. make trouble

      On Sundays my father always wore that dull gray apron - the one with the race cars all over it.
The ritual began after breakfast when Dad always announced: "Go ahead everyone. I'll take care of
the dishes!" With that my mother disappeared into the folds of the Sunday paper. Off came the suit
coat he had worn to church that morning. Up went the shirtsleeves. On went that apron. For the next
hour Dad did the dishes, singing ballads like "I Had a Hat When I Came In" and "Who Put the Chow
in Mrs. Murphy's Chowder?"
      I suppose it was strange for a boy's father to wear an apron - even one with race cars - but I neve
r thought much of it until the day that Dad broke with tradition. It was the last Sunday in August. My
father seemed in an expansive mood as we walked home from church together.
      "Tommy," he said letting my name roll off his tongue. My mind raced ahead of his words: The birds
and the bees? A new bike? A part-time job?
      "There comes a time in every boy's life when he must take on responsibilities." This was important.
I might even get to back the car out of the driveway.
      "Responsibilities?" I asked.
      "Yes. It's time you took a greater role in the household." Power tools? Boss my baby brother?
      "Starting today, I want you to do the dishes on Sunday morning so your mother and I can work
the crossword puzzle together."
       "The dishes!?"
       "Anything wrong with taking over the dishes, son?"
      I started to say something about a man's job or woman's work, but I knew immediately that my
protests would fall on deaf ears.
      I didn't taste a bit of breakfast that morning. Dad seemed in a cheerful mood and was describing
a wonderful baseball game he saw last night.
      Suddenly, everything grew quiet. My sister began to clear the table. My brother was finishing the
last of the egg from his plate. And then that ancient family ritual (程序、儀式) that had filled so many
Sunday mornings came to an end. My father announced: "Let's go read the paper, Hon."
      "Aren't you doing the dishes?" my mother asked in puzzlement.
      "Your oldest son has generously offered to fill the position."
      My brother and sister stopped cold. So this was what my life had come to. A dark angel sat on
my left shoulder and reminded me that I could hit a baseball farther than anyone in my class. I could
bench-press my weight. Ask me to run through a rainstorm. Command me to ride the roller coaster 
backward. These things I would do. But I could never do those dishes. There was nothing left but to
refuse.
      People often say there is a special chemistry between a father and a son. He came back into the
kitchen just as I was about to storm out. He had loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his
shirt- ready to relax. In his right hand was the old apron.
      "I want you to have this, Tommy. It'll keep your clothes from getting wet." And before I could
mount a protest, he had put the thing on me. "Thanks, Son. Your mother and I appreciate this."
      With that he disappeared into the Sunday paper. I looked down at the plastic. It had seen better
days. I could see my dad reaching for the dishes. The dark angel flew off. Soon I was singing about
Mrs. Murphy's chowder. The words came out of nowhere. And out of nowhere I knew the kind of
man I wanted to be.

1. From paragraph 1, we can learn that ________.

A. the family usually had breakfast after going to church on Sundays
B. father was not really willing to wash dishes for the family
C. mother would wash dishes together with father
D. mother used to do the dishes alone

2. What did the author think of washing dishes at first?

A. It's natural for a man to wash dishes.
B. Children need to help parents wash dishes.
C. Parents should wash dishes more.
D. Washing dishes was women's work.

3. Which of the following is conveyed in the passage?

A. The writer understood his father at last.
B. The writer was asked to run through a rainstorm.
C. The writer's sister offered to wash dishes for him.
D. The writer's mother was happy that he offered to wash dishes.

4. Which of the following words can best describe the author's father?

A. Stubborn.    
B. Humorous.    
C. Responsible.    
D. Generous.

5. The writer wrote the passage in order to ________.

A. tell readers how his father taught him what it means to be a man
B. tell readers there is always a special chemistry between a father and a son
C. show readers the generation gap is actually something easy to deal with
D. show readers what an ideal relationship between a father and a son is like

    On Sundays my father always wore that dull gray apron - the one with the race cars all over it. The
ritual began after breakfast when Dad always announced: "Go ahead everyone. I'll take care of the
dishes!" With that my mother disappeared into the folds of the Sunday paper. Off came the suit coat he
had worn to church that morning. Up went the shirtsleeves. On went that apron. For the next hour Dad
did the dishes, singing ballads like "I Had a Hat When I Came In" and "Who Put the Chow in Mrs.
Murphy's Chowder?"
     I suppose it was strange for a boy's father to wear an apron - even one with race cars - but I never
thought much of it until the day that Dad broke with tradition. It was the last Sunday in August. My father
seemed in an expansive mood as we walked home from church together.
     "Tommy," he said letting my name roll off his tongue. My mind raced ahead of his words: The birds
and the bees? A new bike?  A part-time job?
     "There comes a time in every boy's life when he must take on responsibilities." This was important. I
might even get to back the car out of the driveway.
     " Responsibilities?" I asked.
     "Yes. It's time you took a greater role in the household." Power tools? Boss my baby brother?
     "Starting today, I want you to do the dishes on Sunday morning so your mother and I can work the
crossword puzzle together."
     "The dishes!?"
     "Anything wrong with taking over the dishes, son?"
      I started to say something about a man's job or woman's work, but I knew immediately that my
protests would fall on deaf ears.
     I didn't taste a bit of breakfast that morning. Dad seemed in a jovial mood as he described an
exceptional Yankee game seen through the eyes of Mel Allen on the radio last night.
     "Mickey Mantle drove the ball right over the center field wall," he said. "Just a straight line climb in
right out of the stadium." He looked out the window as if trying to pick the ball out of the cloud formations. I tried to imagine Mickey Mantle wearing an apron.
     Suddenly, everything grew quiet. My sister began to clear the table. My brother was scraping the last
of the egg from his plate. And then that ancient family ritual that had filled so many Sunday mornings came
to an end. My father announced: "Let's go read the paper, Hon."
     "Aren't you doing the dishes?" my mother asked in puzzlement.
     "Your oldest son has generously offered to fill the position."
     My brother and sister stopped cold. So this was what my life had come to. A dark angel sat on my
left shoulder and reminded me that I could hit a baseball farther than anyone in my class. I could
bench-press my weight. I knew three declensions in Latin, the language of Caesar. Ask me to run
through a rainstorm. Command me to ride the roller coaster - backward. These things I would do. But I
could never do those dishes. There was nothing left but to refuse.
     People often say there is a special chemistry between a father and a son. He came back into the
kitchen just as I was about to storm out. He had loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his
shirt-ready to relax. In his right hand was the old apron.
     "I want you to have this, Tommy. It'll keep your clothes from getting wet." And before I could mount
a protest, he had put the thing on me. "Thanks, Son. Your mother and I appreciate this."
     With that he disappeared into the Sunday paper. I looked down at the plastic. It had seen better days.
I could see my dad reaching for the dishes. The dark angel flew off. Soon I was singing about Mrs.
Murphy's chowder. The words came out of nowhere. And out of nowhere I knew the kind of man I
wanted to be.

1. What can be inferred from the first paragraph?

A.  The author's family usually had breakfast after going to church on Sundays.
B. Father was not willing to wash dishes.
C.  Mother would wash dishes together with father.
D.  Mother used to do the dishes alone.

2. What did the author think of washing dishes at first?

A.  It's natural for a man to wash dishes .
B.  Washing dishes was women's work..
C.  Parents should wash dishes.
D.  Children should help their parents wash dishes.

3. Which of the statements is Not true?

A.  The author would rather run through a rainstorm than wash dishes at first.
B.  Mickey Mantle would wash dishes for the author.
C.  Father set a good example to the author.
D.  The author understood his father at last.

4. Which of the following words can best decribe the author's father?

A. successful    
B. humourous    
C. responsible    
D. generous

5. What can be the best title for the pasage?

A. Father's Love  
B. Father's Apron  
C. Father's Responsibility  
D. Father's Influence