Please help me translate it.

My wife has curly brown hair, black eyes and a gentle personality. Because of her gentle personality, sometimes I think she will ruin the child. She can't refuse them anything. They always shoot around her. Ethel and I have been married for ten years. We are both from Morristown, New Jersey, and I can't even remember when I first met her. In my opinion, our marriage is always happy and flexible. We live in a 50-year-old house. Our six-year-old son Carl goes to a good private school, and our four-year-old daughter won't go to school until next year. We often find the wrong way of education, but we seem to be trying to get our children to follow the same path. When we left, I thought they would go to the same school and university, and we did.

Ethel graduated from a women's college in the east, and then went to college in Grenoble for one year. She worked in new york for a year, and then we got married. She once hung a diploma above the kitchen sink, but it was a short joke. I wonder where the diploma is. Ethel's happiness, adaptability and gentleness all come from their huge class, which is the conspicuous middle class. They can recall the good days. Losing money has become such a part of our life that I sometimes think of expatriates, a group of aliens who have adapted, but occasionally remind me that the former is on the coast of my hometown. Our life is limited by my meager salary, and the superficial life is easy to be described by Ethel.