Carcano quieter Bashny.Net

I go out in the evening after work with my daughter and brother in the yard for a walk to the playground. I am 28, my daughter 8 years old, his brother 13.

Both benches at the site occupied by the old lady, a bit further - a couple of moms with kids in the sandbox. Mothers are children crawling in the sand, more adults are worn as hell and screaming so that lays the ears. It goes exactly as long as we do not show on the horizon. Around me and my Kinder immediately going to a gaggle of kids aged 7 to 13:

- Aunt Olya, and let's play ball!

Yes please - certainly play! We walk away from the sandbox, swings, benches and children. Peace starts the game. Some are not very good at throwing a ball, someone to catch and someone does it for the first time took up. Children like - they do not yell, do not fight, do not rage.

Awkwardly thrown ball rolls (rolls!) To one of the shops with good-looking old ladies.





Raised a cry to heaven:

- Oh, you so-and-sos-razedakie Paskuda-s-s, and even if I now have the ball at my head! Yes, I have here right now, all the overclocking the hell im!

Children are frightened, I come to granny kept yelling and tried to apologize for his honest company, saying, sorry, we do not mean to, and the ball did not fall from heaven, and just rolled at your feet. Granny yells, already flushed, her sit tovarki assent Come, they say, otseda, before they reach our age - you will understand how important peace and quiet. Politely questioner, not whether it will be more convenient to stay on the bench at the entrance. The benefit of the yard we have a good, clean and well-maintained. I draped three-story Russian folk, do not hesitate to children who have light panic in his eyes. Silently I unfold, picks up the ball and go to the children. We pull back further and begin to simply roll the ball along the ground ... the mood is spoiled.

The next day leave from work. Jogging to stop, I jump into the bus, parked at the window. I was standing. To my right two seats immediately collapsed grandmother aged well over a hundred in the strange mantle. War Paint indicates at least a close relationship with the Indians of all tribes once. But I-what's the difference? Peacefully I stand, not bothering anyone, bananas in your ears with your favorite Depeche Mode, in the hands of the book Pekhov. Full suspension from all events is interrupted by a rare show of the head - not to drive to stop, fascinated. And there should be a gross interference: a heavy fist arrives in my right shoulder, so that I drop my book. I lift the book, took out the right ear earpiece and hear in his address:

- Look, there is, of itself poses smart! He opened the book and did not hear a damn! Do you think best? Come quickly tell how much time!

I'm a light shock, look at your watch grandmother.

- Woman, you have the same hours. And if you had to learn it from me, the hour - you can just gently touch his hand, I would have felt. Why beat something?

- And you do not talk back to me here! Mozha not hodyut they watch something mine, Mozhayev and hodyut. Not doorёshsya to youth today! You what's the difference - poking more poking less ?!

Frankly ofigevaya by such rudeness, raises his right hand, looking at the clock and time pronouncing. Granny, meanwhile, is not appeased:

- And the clock was wearing Che on his right arm, miserable, eh? That's the look: short haircut, the hair so red on the shirt painted all sorts of rubbish.

I dare say, a T-shirt I Dyudyuka Barbidokskaya cartoon "Gift for the elephant," red vredina with large pink bow. Give your favorite T-shirt with the words, "the red-haired fox red vredina need».

Grandma still burn on the theme of the exterior, the literary preferences of the current way of dressing young. Trying to ignore, silently put a book in the backpack and go my way away from the old pepper. Standing next to a man for a long time looking at all this, listen to, and then thoughtfully gives the Stalinist accent, pointing to sklochnitsu:

- Comrades, it would not hurt to shoot. To prevent!

So, dear, dear, older and deeply elderly aunt! You zadolbali with its judgment, and eternal nagging dissatisfaction with everything and everyone around him. You all should be polite, should lisp, as to babes. Actually, you old crow. Carcano quieter.
via zadolba.li