419
Car!
My mother was proud that knows how to handle money, and really wanted to learn this art only daughter. Therefore, the first day of class, I went to the grocery store, and the second - on a weekly basis received 30 cents out of pocket expenses. Before each payment mom was waiting for me to report on what is spent previous pay: on funky ice cream for 19 cents or a luxurious cake for 22 kopecks. The remaining third of the money I have, on the advice of my mother, postponed for a major purchase.
- We offer accommodation in exchange for a fee - once said to my mother. - Do not tell anyone, it informally.
- We are going to move?
- No, we stay here to live. Just Surcharge two thousand rubles, and we will have another apartment, studio. That's just against my father: he wants to spend the money on car ...
In that month, Mom and Dad a lot of arguing.
- Apartments! - Mom demanded.
- Machine - upset the pope.
- Apartments! - Mom insisted.
- Machines, - begged the pope. [next]
As a result, my mother gave up.
In the third grade, I came home after school. I met a beaming Dad, he clutched to his chest the blue shopping bag.
- Turn on the car came, - said the mother.
- What's in your bag? - I asked.
- Eight thousand.
- Wow! Is that cost four apartments? Show !!!
My mother took away the father's bag and emptied the contents onto my bed with eight neat stacks, tapered strips of paper. Father issued an inarticulate sound. He ran back and forth, trying to look me in the face, and he looked like a bird to the nest where the cat is chosen.
- You can touch it? - I asked with a sinking heart.
- Only carefully - mom warned. - Honey, come and help me in the kitchen.
- Car! - Dad said plaintively.
- The machine will be tomorrow - is strictly Mom said. - And this is yet just money. Nothing will happen to them, our daughter is an adult.
They left, and I sat on the edge fascinated bed and stretched his hand to the packs. He picked up one of the bricks, weighed on the palm. He was hard and heavy ...
Evening room in Khrushchev. Squeaky floorboards painted recently and still emits the smell of oil paint. On the wall hangs a prickly dark red carpet with brown ornaments. Bed unmade cheap blue blanket.
And here in this bed alone treteklashka sitting with a pink bow and playing with blocks wad of money, which you can buy four apartments.
A minute later, the father came running from the kitchen.
- Um ... - He looked in despair at my toys. - Well ...
Behind him came in Mom:
- Okay, give the money to his father. And it is now enough for a heart attack.
The next day, under our windows stopped newcomer "Moskvich", and from it came a happy dad. He was calm and proud. Bird saved the nest and protect it for years to come.
It soon became clear that if the money in the family overall, the car belonged to his father. This is his personal territory, which he will defend with dedication defenders of the Brest Fortress.
During visits mom tried to command and criticize: a wrong turn, it does not stop, do not stop. Usually the father remained silent. Sometimes briefly snapped. And once I could not stand. Stopped the car, jumped out, walked around and opened the door from the mother:
- What are you talking about arm ?! If all you know so well - lead by herself!
It worked - my mother paused for a long time ...
In my life I once sold twice and bought an apartment. Nothing special about it was not, the process was easy. Apparently, most of the emotions associated with large sums, was far in childhood, on a blue blanket.
To the car I had a reverent attitude. I am convinced that the car - the driver is a private space, and give advice to the driver - still that drinking out of his favorite mug.
In the car I'm driving like a train. Where you can look out the window, read a book, chat with fellow travelers. But what is the point to worry, if the train goes too fast or too loudly clanks and bangs? Affect is still impossible.
Drivers feel my attitude and appreciate. So something Mom and Dad I still teach.
Source: Kommersant
Source:
- We offer accommodation in exchange for a fee - once said to my mother. - Do not tell anyone, it informally.
- We are going to move?
- No, we stay here to live. Just Surcharge two thousand rubles, and we will have another apartment, studio. That's just against my father: he wants to spend the money on car ...
In that month, Mom and Dad a lot of arguing.
- Apartments! - Mom demanded.
- Machine - upset the pope.
- Apartments! - Mom insisted.
- Machines, - begged the pope. [next]
As a result, my mother gave up.
In the third grade, I came home after school. I met a beaming Dad, he clutched to his chest the blue shopping bag.
- Turn on the car came, - said the mother.
- What's in your bag? - I asked.
- Eight thousand.
- Wow! Is that cost four apartments? Show !!!
My mother took away the father's bag and emptied the contents onto my bed with eight neat stacks, tapered strips of paper. Father issued an inarticulate sound. He ran back and forth, trying to look me in the face, and he looked like a bird to the nest where the cat is chosen.
- You can touch it? - I asked with a sinking heart.
- Only carefully - mom warned. - Honey, come and help me in the kitchen.
- Car! - Dad said plaintively.
- The machine will be tomorrow - is strictly Mom said. - And this is yet just money. Nothing will happen to them, our daughter is an adult.
They left, and I sat on the edge fascinated bed and stretched his hand to the packs. He picked up one of the bricks, weighed on the palm. He was hard and heavy ...
Evening room in Khrushchev. Squeaky floorboards painted recently and still emits the smell of oil paint. On the wall hangs a prickly dark red carpet with brown ornaments. Bed unmade cheap blue blanket.
And here in this bed alone treteklashka sitting with a pink bow and playing with blocks wad of money, which you can buy four apartments.
A minute later, the father came running from the kitchen.
- Um ... - He looked in despair at my toys. - Well ...
Behind him came in Mom:
- Okay, give the money to his father. And it is now enough for a heart attack.
The next day, under our windows stopped newcomer "Moskvich", and from it came a happy dad. He was calm and proud. Bird saved the nest and protect it for years to come.
It soon became clear that if the money in the family overall, the car belonged to his father. This is his personal territory, which he will defend with dedication defenders of the Brest Fortress.
During visits mom tried to command and criticize: a wrong turn, it does not stop, do not stop. Usually the father remained silent. Sometimes briefly snapped. And once I could not stand. Stopped the car, jumped out, walked around and opened the door from the mother:
- What are you talking about arm ?! If all you know so well - lead by herself!
It worked - my mother paused for a long time ...
In my life I once sold twice and bought an apartment. Nothing special about it was not, the process was easy. Apparently, most of the emotions associated with large sums, was far in childhood, on a blue blanket.
To the car I had a reverent attitude. I am convinced that the car - the driver is a private space, and give advice to the driver - still that drinking out of his favorite mug.
In the car I'm driving like a train. Where you can look out the window, read a book, chat with fellow travelers. But what is the point to worry, if the train goes too fast or too loudly clanks and bangs? Affect is still impossible.
Drivers feel my attitude and appreciate. So something Mom and Dad I still teach.
Source: Kommersant
Source:
