Parents often believe that they have a good relationship with their teenagers. But last summer, Joanna and Henry noticed a change in their older son: suddenly he seemed to be talking far more to his friends than to his parents. “The door to his room is always shut”, Joanna noted.

    Tina and Mark noticed the same changes in their 14-year-old daughter. “She used to cuddle up (依偎) with me on the sofa and talk,” said Mark, “Now we joke that she does this only when she wants something. Sometimes she wants to be treated like a little girl and sometimes like a young lady. The problem is figuring out which time is which.”

    Before age 11, children like to tell their parents what's on their minds. “In fact, parents are first on the list,” said Michael Riera, writer of Uncommon Sense for Parents with Teenagers. “This completely changes during the teen years.” Riera explained. “They talk to their friends first, then maybe their teachers, and their parents last.”

    Parents who know what's going on in their teenagers' lives are in the best position (位置) to help them. To break down the wall of silence, parents should produce chances to understand what their children want to say, and try to find ways to talk and write to them. And they must give their children a mental (精神上的) break, for children also need freedom, though young. Another thing parents should remember is that to be a friend, not a manager, with their children is a better way to know them.

    It was Saturday morning. I heard loud noises of moving furniture in the next room. I could almost feel the excitement of John who was soon going to get a room of his own. I remember my own feelings when I was 13. I knew how much he longed for his right to privacy (私人空间) when he was sharing a room with his younger brother, Robot. He said, “Mum, Can I please have a room of my own? I could use Jeff's. He won't mind.”

    It was true that Jeff had graduated from college and flown from the nest. But would he mind? The room was the place where I told him a thousand stories and we had a thousand talks. As close as we were, though, the time came when Jeff needed a door between us. His life was spreading into areas that had less to do with family. I no longer could-or should-know everything about him.

It turned out that getting Jeff's permission was easy. He said, “Of course, Mum, it would be selfish of me to hold on to it.” Then his voice softened, “Mum, I won't be living at home again—you know that.” Behind his glasses, his eyes were lit with all the love. There were no doors closed here—they had all opened up again.

    As John and I were cleaning the room, I fixed my eyes on Jeff's things around me and could almost touch the little boy who I knew was gone forever. I looked at the room and, in my heart, I let it go. To hold on would be, as Jeff said, selfish. Now it was time for John, shouldering through the door, his eyes bright with promise of independence, to disappear behind the door. It was time for letting go to happen again.

    It took place at the Biltmore Hotel. My grandmother, my mother, and I were having lunch after a morning spent shopping. I gladly ordered a Salisbury steak. When brought to the table, it was accompanied by a plate of peas. I do not like peas now. I did not like peas then. I have always hated peas.

    “Eat your peas,” my grandmother said.

    “Mother,” said my mother in her warning voice. “He doesn't like peas. Leave him alone.”

    My grandmother did not reply, but leaned in my direction, looked me in the eye, and spoke out the fateful words that changed my life, “I'll pay you five dollars if you eat those peas.”

    I only knew that five dollars was a huge, nearly unimaginable amount of money, and awful as peas were, only one plate of them stood between me and the possession of that five dollars. I began to force them down my throat.

    My mother looked livid (铁青色的). My grandmother had a self-satisfied look and said, “I can do what I want, Ellen, and you can't stop me.” My mother glared at her mother. She glared at me. No one can glare like my mother. If there were a glaring Olympics, she would undoubtedly win the gold medal.

    I, of course, kept shoving peas down my throat, and every single pea made me want to throw up, but the magical image of the five dollars floated before me, and I finally swallowed every last one of them. My grandmother handed me the five dollars with satisfaction. My mother continued to glare in silence.

    That night, at dinner, my mother served two of my all-time favorite foods, meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Along with them came a big, steaming bowl of peas. She offered me some peas, and of course I declined. My mother fixed me with a cold eye as she heaped（堆积) a huge pile of peas onto my plate. Then came the words that were to haunt (萦绕) me for years. “You ate them for money,” she said, “You can eat them for love.”

    The boss of a big company needed to call one of his employees about a serious problem with one of the main computers.

    He dialed the employee's home phone number and was greeted with a child's whisper, "Hello?" The boss asked, "Is your daddy at home?" "Yes," whispered the small voice. "May I talk with him?" The man asked.

    To the surprise of the boss, the small voice whispered, "No." Wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, "Is your mommy there?" "Yes," came the answer. "May I talk with her?" Again the small voice whispered, "No."

    Knowing that it was impossible that a young child would be left home alone, the boss decided he would just leave a message with the person who should be there watching over the child. "Is there anyone there besides you?" The boss asked the child. "Yes," whispered the child, "a policeman."

    Wondering what a policeman would be doing at his employee's home, the boss asked, "May I speak with the policeman?"

    "No, he's busy," whispered the child. "Busy doing what?" asked the boss. "Talking to daddy and mommy and the fireman," came the whispered answer.

    Growing concerned and even worried as he heard what sounded like a helicopter(直升机)through the earpiece on the phone, the boss asked, "What is the noise?" "A helicopter." answered the whispered voice. "What is going on there?" asked the boss, now alarmed.

    In a serious whispering voice the child answered, "The search team just landed the helicopter." Alarmed and concerned and more than just a little disappointed, the boss asked, "Why are they there?" Still whispering, the young voice replied along with an unclear giggly(窃笑), "They are looking for me."

    It was a quiet village in which there was a military camp(军营). It was far from the towns and cities and there were some high mountains around. Of course it was a good place for training the new soldiers. But it was difficult for the young men to go outside. Mr White, an officer of forty, was strict with them and he hardly let them leave the camp.

    Once Mr White was ill in bed. He couldn't work and a young officer, Mr Hunt, began to train the new soldiers instead of him. He knew the young men well and let nine soldiers go to the nearest town to have a holiday. But night fell and none came back to the camp. He was worried about it and stood at the gate. It was five to twelve when Mr Hunt decided to go to the town and see what was happening to the young men. He started the car quickly and set off. At that moment the nine soldiers came back. It seemed they drank wine. Of course they found the officer was angry.

    "I'm sorry, sir," said the first soldier. "I left the town on time. But something was wrong with my bus on my way here. I had to buy a horse and made it run fast. Bad luck! It died and I had to run back."

    And the other seven soldiers said they were late for the same reasons. It was the last soldier's turn. He said, "I'm sorry, sir. I got on a bus on time, but……"

    Having heard this, the officer became even angrier and stopped him at once. He called out, "If you say something was wrong with your bus, I'll punish you at once!"

    "No, no, sir," said the young man. "My bus was all right, but the dead horses were in its way!"

Walk in London's cobblestoned streets, cross centuries-old bridges and wander through covered markets — before the morning drizzle (毛毛雨) has given way to afternoon sun, history will become alive before you. The city's old buildings, black taxis and red double-decker buses all have long and complicated stories that are deeply rooted in London's traditions. So do fish and chips. Apart from being a fast-food favourite, fish and chips are also typically served as a Friday meal, in schools for lunch and at home for dinner. Former British prime minister Winston Churchill famously called fish and chips "the good companions".

More than 229 million portions of white fish fillets are sold each year in England, each one coated in a light batter (面糊) and deep-fried, and served alongside fat fried slices of potatoes. For many English people, fish and chips are best served wrapped in newspapers and wolfed down with a combination of a wooden fork and greasy fingers, preferably seaside.

Most historians agree that it was in London, not on the coast, that the first fish and chip shop opened its doors. It was here too that the city's working class pushed the dish into popular cooking culture. And it is in London that one of the oldest surviving chippies still stands today.

This is an understandable source of despair for nutritionists: Fish and chips may contain an abundance of vitamins and minerals, but both main ingredients are also deep-fried in oil that often contains unhealthy saturated fats. For all its traditional popularity, however, according to a 2016 study by the U. K. Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs, fish and chips consumption has lost significant market share in recent years to other takeaway items such as pizza and kebabs.