Ngoại động từ
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It was a hot day. The sun was shining in the sky. The air was sticky. It was a Sunday afternoon. Jane was thirsty. She went to the kitchen to get a drink. She opened her refrigerator. There was nothing to drink inside. Jane grabbed some lemons and a big pitcher. She cut the lemons in two. She filled the large pitcher with water. She squeezed the lemons into the pitcher of water. She opened her cabinet to get the sugar. She poured some sugar into the pitcher of water and lemon juice. She had made lemonade. She took a sip of the lemonade. It needed more sugar. She grabbed the bag of sugar and poured a little more. She took another sip. The lemonade tasted sweet. All it needed now was ice. She opened the refrigerator to grab some ice. There was no ice.
Andrew got down on his hands and knees. He put a dry sponge into the bucket. The bucket was full of soapy water. He squeezed the sponge. He scrubbed the kitchen floor. There were marks on the floor. There were spots on the floor. There was old food on the floor. He scrubbed the floor clean. Then he took the bucket into the bathroom. He poured the soapy water into the tub. The water went down the drain. He turned on the shower. He rinsed the tub. He turned the bucket over so it would dry. He washed his hands.
The bathroom wall had a nail in it. He pulled the nail out of the wall. It was a big nail. When he pulled the nail out, a hole was in the wall. It was a big hole. He wanted to repair the hole. He went to Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart has everything for sale. Wal-Mart is a very popular store. He asked a clerk, "How can I fix a nail hole in my bathroom wall?" The clerk said it was very simple. A nail hole was easy to fix. "Just buy this tube of Nail Hole Filler. Then squeeze it into the hole," the clerk said. He took the filler home. He squeezed it into the hole. He let the filler dry overnight. The next day, there was no hole!
His ear had a tiny air bubble in it. It bothered him a lot. He could hear an echo when he talked. The echo bothered him a lot. He tried to get rid of the tiny air bubble. He squeezed his nose, closed his mouth, and blew really hard. Nothing happened. He shook his head like a wet dog. Nothing happened. He stood on his head for 10 minutes. Nothing happened. He stuck his finger deep in his ear and pulled it out quickly. Nothing happened. The doctor gave him nose drops. Nothing happened. The doctor gave him ear drops. Nothing happened. He took a walk on a winter day. He slipped on the ice. He hit his head on the sidewalk. The bubble was gone!
Everything's a hassle, he thought. The smallest thing is a hassle. Taking the cap off the toothpaste tube is a hassle. Squeezing the toothpaste tube is a hassle. Putting the toothpaste on the toothbrush is a hassle. Brushing his teeth is a hassle. Life is just one hassle after another. "You always exaggerate," his wife said. "Not everything is a hassle." He thought about that. Could his wife be right? Are some things not a hassle? How about eating food? That's not a hassle. How about taking a hot shower? That's not a hassle. How about reading? How about watching a good TV program? How about sleeping? He couldn't think of anything else. Eating, showering, reading, watching TV, and sleeping aren't a hassle. "Okay, I won't exaggerate," he said to his wife. "I won't say that everything is a hassle. I'll say that everything except five things is a hassle!
She walked into the bathroom. She took the cap off the tube of toothpaste. She squeezed some toothpaste onto her toothbrush. She turned on the cold water. She brushed her upper teeth and spit out some toothpaste. She brushed her lower teeth and spit out some more toothpaste. She rinsed out her toothbrush. She put the toothbrush back into the toothbrush holder. She put some water into a cup and rinsed out her mouth. She spit out the water and walked out of the bathroom.
He arrived home a little bit hungry. First, he had to take a small package of ham out of the freezer. But before he did that, he took the big pot off the stove and put about an inch of water in the bottom. Then he put the steamer basket into the pot. He put the pot on the stove and turned on the gas burner.
He opened the refrigerator and took out an eggplant. He washed the eggplant with soap and water, and then rinsed it. He sliced the eggplant into thin sections, and put them all into the big pot. He put the lid on the pot and set the timer to 20 minutes.
In 20 minutes, the eggplant would be deliciously soft, almost like pudding. He would take half of it out of the pot, and put it into a bowl. Then he would add a little butter, salt, ground pepper, and fresh-squeezed lemon juice. Then, he would chop up some microwaved ham, add it to the eggplant, and enjoy! But first, he needed to take the ham out of the freezer.
Before he did that, he took a lemon out of the fruit bowl on top of the refrigerator. He sliced it in half and looked around for the lemon squeezer. It was supposed to be hanging on a hook above the sink. It wasn't, of course. He dug through the pile of clean dishes in his sink. It wasn't there. He looked through all the stuff on all the countertops. He looked on the stovetop, in the fridge, and in the microwave. He looked in the kitchen drawers. He gave up.
He sat down at the dining table and cursed his lack of organization. I've spent half of my life looking for things I've spent the other half misplacing, he muttered. Just then he spotted the lemon squeezer, sitting on top of his printer. Of course, he thought. Where else would it be?
The timer went off. He turned off the burner. He squeezed the lemon. He took half the eggplant out of the pot, put it into a bowl, added butter, and watched it melt. He shook salt and grinded pepper onto the eggplant, poured the lemon juice on the eggplant, and sat down at the dining table. He took a bite. It was delicious! But, something was missing. What was it? Just before the last bite of eggplant, he remembered.
On her first day in Tehran, Courtney went to the US Embassy and told an official who she was and why she was there. The assistant to the deputy ambassador told her that she should return to the US, and leave the investigation to "professionals." She politely refused, saying that the "professionals" had so far discovered absolutely nothing. He said that these things took time. He told her that her efforts would interfere with official efforts, and might even put her life in danger. She told him that she would gladly risk her life in order to find her husband. He said he had to go to a meeting. "Go home," he ordered. Frustrated, she walked out of the embassy and sat down on the steps outside. With her head in her hands, she wondered what her next step would be.
Minutes later, a well-dressed Iranian man walked over to her and asked, in fluent English, if he could be of any assistance. He offered Courtney a handkerchief. He sat down next to her. She looked at a kind, caring face, and felt hope for the first time in almost a month. She explained her situation to the man. He frowned. He told her that cigarette smugglers tolerated no one who got in their way. He said he would talk to some people he knew. He gave her his business card and the name of a good hotel to stay in. He said he would contact her at the hotel the next day. He squeezed her hands in his, and then said goodbye.
Oscar hadn't eaten all day, but that was okay. Many scientific studies have concluded that the less people eat, the longer they live. These studies are based on experiments with mice and other small animals, so maybe the conclusions don't apply to humans. But maybe they do. Oscar wanted to live to be 100. So, years ago, he had cut back from three meals a day to two. Occasionally, he ate only one meal a day. The fewer meals Oscar ate, the less guilty he felt about not exercising.
It was 11 p.m. Oscar peeled and ate a banana. He filled a pot with water, put the pot on the stovetop, and turned on the gas. Then he sliced six radishes, salted them lightly, and ate them. Then he washed and ate two celery stalks. After that, he ate a half cup of assorted nuts. He loved the pecans best, although they were the fewest in the assortment. He sliced a lemon in half, and then used a squeezer to squeeze all the lemon juice into an empty cup. When the water in the pot began to boil, he grabbed a box of pasta from the cabinet.
I had another bad dream," she told her fiance. "It was about you again. You and your ex-girlfriend were kissing. I yelled at you to stop it. You looked right at me, and then you laughed at me! She laughed, too. Then you both went back to kissing. I tried not to watch, but when I covered my eyes, something pulled my hands away. I tried to leave, but my feet were glued to the ground. Finally, I woke up. Of course, it was very difficult to get back to sleep.
I had to drive home from Las Vegas this morning. It's a wonder I didn't crash 50 times. Instead of seeing traffic in front of me, all I saw was you and her. I can't take any more dreams like this. We're going to have to break up. We can be friends, but just friends. That way, I won't be jealous anymore, and I won't have these bad dreams anymore.
Why didn't you call me up and tell me about your dream?" he asked. "They say that the more you talk about bad dreams, the sooner you'll stop having them.
She disagreed. She thought that the only solution was to break up and be just friends. She loved him, but these dreams had become so frequent that she was actually afraid to go to sleep. She was losing weight and having stomachaches from the stress.
He didn't know what to do. He wanted her to have pleasant dreams. He wanted her to have a life without stress. He wanted her to be his wife. This was it, she repeated; if she had just one more bad dream, they were through. He squeezed her hand, but said nothing.
Hannah's daddy was a teacher who barely made enough money to raise his six kids. Hannah wore hand-me-downs from her older sisters. For Christmas she usually got used dolls and books. As a child, she yearned to have the beautiful clothes, cars, and homes that she often saw on TV and in magazines.
Several years after she graduated from college, she became part-owner of a successful interior decorating business in Manhattan. Her life became what she had dreamed about as a little girl. A successful business woman, she had a handsome, wealthy fiancé. She owned her own co-op near Central Park. She took skiing vacations in the winter and exotic cruises in the summer. At the age of 30, Hannah was on top of the world.
Then she underwent a routine health checkup, and her perfect world crumbled. Her doctor told her that she had pancreatic cancer. Surgery was necessary to determine how much the cancer had spread. Hannah was operated on a week later. The surgeon suspected that cancer had spread to vital organs. Ten days later, the lab confirmed his suspicions.
Hannah's doctor said he could treat her with chemotherapy and painkillers, but it was just a matter of time before the cancer killed her. She asked how much time. He guessed that she had less than a year to live. How can this be, Hannah wondered. Doesn't this always happen to someone else?
A couple of weeks later, she visited another cancer specialist. He examined her and read her medical and lab reports. He said he agreed with her surgeon. "If you have any once-in-a-lifetime plans, do them now," he advised.
Instead, Hannah spent her last months in her co-op, tended to by hospice workers. Her family and friends visited her regularly. The moment before she died, she opened her eyes and tried to say something to her fiancé. She squeezed his hand weakly.
She was in constant pain," her fiancé said. "At the end, she could barely whisper. She weighed 80 pounds when she died. I can't believe that God allows things like this to happen to people.