Results for why your child doesnt want to eat translation from English to Tagalog

want to eat
fia ai?

i want to eat you
gusto kong kainin

only belo doesnt want to touch myskin
ayaw niya

do you want to eat?
gusto niyo na bang kumain

i want to eat pizza
gusto ko kumain ng pizza

i want to eat hello.
pwede kainin pwede e halo

i want to bear your child
upang manganak ng isang bata

i want to eat dinner with you
papasayahin kita

that's what i want to eat now
yan yung gusto kong matuntunan

yes actually i want to eat your pussy hair
oo gusto kong kainin ang iyong puki

i am hungry because i want to eat a hatdog
ako ay nagugutom kasi kailangan kong kumain ng hatdog

plus the foods you want to eat that are available in our shop
dagdag pa ang mga pagkain na gusto mong kainin na meron sa aming shop

what she just wants to eat is
ang gusto niya lang kinakain ay

do you want to keep an eye on your child when they arrive at the station?
sasakyan

oh. well, there's a kabob cart out front if you want to get something to eat first.
o. merong kabob cart sa harapan kung gusto mong kumain muna.

good morning to you all my name is jonnellet tangalin lives in dimanpudso maria aurora 15 years old. i just want to share where my speech on nato day is i wish some day and everyone has a wish for someday for their lives. other people and others also have their dreams in their lives or have family to work for so that the family can have something to eat.
magandang umaga sa inyong lahat ang pangalan ko ay jonnellet tangalin nakatira sa dimanpudso maria maria aurora 15 anyos.gusto ko lang ibahagi tukol saan ang aking speech sa araw nato ay i wish some day at lahat ng tao ay meron naman wish para sa balang araw para sakanilang buhay.may iba ibang tao at iba iba din ang kanilang pangarap sa kanilang buhay mag tratrabaho upang maymakain ang pamilya.

many artists lived in the greenwich village area of new york. two young women named sue and johnsy shared a studio apartment at the top of a three-story building. johnsy's real name was joanna. in november, a cold, unseen stranger came to visit the city. this disease, pneumonia, killed many people. johnsy lay on her bed, hardly moving. she looked through the small window. she could see the side of the brick house next to her building. one morning, a doctor examined johnsy and took her temperature. then he spoke with sue in another room. "she has one chance in -- let us say ten," he said. "and that chance is for her to want to live. your friend has made up her mind that she is not going to get well. has she anything on her mind?" "she -- she wanted to paint the bay of naples in italy some day," said sue. "paint?" said the doctor. "bosh! has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice -- a man for example?" "a man?" said sue. "is a man worth -- but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind." "i will do all that science can do," said the doctor. "but whenever my patient begins to count the carriages at her funeral, i take away fifty percent from the curative power of medicines." after the doctor had gone, sue went into the workroom and cried. then she went to johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime. johnsy lay with her face toward the window. sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep. she began making a pen and ink drawing for a story in a magazine. young artists must work their way to "art" by making pictures for magazine stories. sue heard a low sound, several times repeated. she went quickly to the bedside. johnsy's eyes were open wide. she was looking out the window and counting -- counting backward. "twelve," she said, and a little later "eleven"; and then "ten" and "nine;" and then "eight" and "seven," almost together. sue looked out the window. what was there to count? there was only an empty yard and the blank side of the house seven meters away. an old ivy vine, going bad at the roots, climbed half way up the wall. the cold breath of autumn had stricken leaves from the plant until its branches, almost bare, hung on the bricks. "what is it, dear?" asked sue. "six," said johnsy, quietly. "they're falling faster now. three days ago there were almost a hundred. it made my head hurt to count them. but now it's easy. there goes another one. there are only five left now." "five what, dear?" asked sue. "leaves. on the plant. when the last one falls i must go, too. i've known that for three days. didn't the doctor tell you?" "oh, i never heard of such a thing," said sue. "what have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? and you used to love that vine. don't be silly. why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were -- let's see exactly what he said – he said the chances were ten to one! try to eat some soup now. and, let me go back to my drawing, so i can sell it to the magazine and buy food and wine for us." "you needn't get any more wine," said johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "there goes another one. no, i don't want any soup. that leaves just four. i want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. then i'll go, too." "johnsy, dear," said sue, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until i am done working? i must hand those drawings in by tomorrow." "tell me as soon as you have finished," said johnsy, closing her eyes and lying white and still as a fallen statue. "i want to see the last one fall. i'm tired of waiting. i'm tired of thinking. i want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves."
c / ang huling dahon ng o henry