I wrote about all these memories and put them in my essay. I handed it in the next day and was surprised to find out that the winning essays would be read in the auditorium on Thursday night. A11 the parents and students were invited.
    My parents and I went to school Thursday night. One of our neighbours said, "I bet you'll win the contest, David. I bet you wrote what it's like to be the son of an astronaut, and you're the only one in town who could write about that. "

    My dad looked at me, and I shrugged. I hadn't sliown him the essay, and now I almost hoped Lwouldn't win. I didn't want; to win just because my father was an astronaut.
When third prize was announced and it wasn't me, I was relieved and disappointed at the same time, Ellen Gordon won third prize, and she read her essay. Ellen. is adopted, and she wrote a.bout her "better than real" father. When she got to the end,I heard people in the audience sniffing and blowing their noses. My mother sniffed, and my father cleared his throat.

    The second-prize winner was announced next. It was me.
    I went up to the stage, my knees shaking. I read my essay and wondered if my voice was shaking, too. It was scary standing up in front of all those people. I called my essay "My Father's Son. " I watched my parents as I read. When I finished reading, the audience applauded. I saw my father blowing his nose. Tears were running down my mother's face. I went back
to my seat.

    "I see you have an allergy , too , Dad , " I tried to joke.
Dad nodded, cleared his throat, and put his hand on my shoulder. "Son, this is the proudest moment of my life," he said.
    It was the proudest moment of my life, too. Maybe I'll never be a great hero or win a Nobel Prize, but just then, it was enough just to be my father's son.
 
              Text B

                          The Wrong Sex or the Wrong Clothes?
　

    Sylvia and Larry both work for a big company in London. They work in different departments. They are having lunch in the canteen. SYLVIA:   We've got a new manager in our department.
LARRY:   Oh? You hoped to get that job, didn't you?
SYLVIA:   Yes, I did.
LARRY:   I'm sorry. That's too bad. Who is it? Who got the job, I mean?
SYLVIA:   Someone called Drexler. Carl Drexler. He's been with the company only
   two years. I've been here longer. And I know more about the job , too
LARRY:   Hmm. Why do you think they gave it to him and not to you?
SYLVIA:   Because I'm the wrong sex , of course !
LARRY:   You mean you didn't get the job because you're a woman?
SYLVIA:   Yes, that was probably it! It isn't fair.
LARRY:   What sort of clothes does he wear?
SYLVTA:   A dark suit. White shirt. A tie. Why?
LARRY:   Perhaps that had something to do with it.
SYLVIA:   You mean you think I didn't get the job because I come to work in jeans
   and a sweater?
LARRY:   It's possible, isn't it?
SYLVIA:   Do you really think I should wear different clothes?
LARRY:   Well. . . perhaps you should think about it.
SYLVTA:   Why should I wear a skirt? Or a dress?
LARRY:   I'm not saying you should. I'm saying you should think about it. That's all!
SYLVIA:   Why should I do that? I'm good at my job! That's the only important thing !
LARRY:   Hmm. Perhaps it should be the only important thing. But it isn't. Not in
   this company.

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