Moms - they are))) Bashny.Net

Since childhood, I did not like the word "but." That is, when Ma bought me still quite small a thing, for example, silly shoes, brought home and shoed me to them, then contritely looked at it (I'm talking about boots), sighed and said: "But strong!»
 Or - to buy some stupid poltinu, brought home, looked at it (I'm already about the coat), she sighed and said: "On the other hand tend to accumulate grease!»

I still do not understand why the same thing could not be beautiful and strong on top! (It is already possible to make a mistake and think about me, not about some nonsense, for that you do not).
 In short, the cap of camel's hair, which I Ma related classes in the sixth was of breed "But warm!»
 Where Ma took this very camel's hair, I still can not understand. In general, where all the women were getting everything they need in Soviet times? We bought each other "on the occasion."

Well, could it be that a relative of a friend mamaninoy co-worker came to someone familiar from the camels and brought the whole abyss of camel's hair, which has reportedly some unusual, just the same magical properties. As usual, on this unexpectedly halts wealth lucky stunned and did not think up to what better than to fill a camel hair pillow. But, apparently, they quickly realized that sleeping on a pillow impossible gutted pillowcase and all the precious wool sold on the familiar.
 Mamane got a kilo of this miracle, and it was decided to tie my hat. "Petushki" had not yet worn, so Ma vyvyazala I usually round cap. The one time it was supposed to do with a pompon, pom-pom hair but not enough, but it is, thank God, otherwise, with a pompon, hat would not fit in my pocket. And I wore it in his pocket - wear it on his head was just unreal. Why? At least for four reasons:

1. Style. Wool was terribly matted, so it is normal raspryasti failed. The yarn has turned out some rolls. Therefore, the cap turned some wry, lopsided as Gingerbread after a fight with a bear.
 2. Color. Notwithstanding any tricks, camel hair is not painted in any color, in addition to its natural govnistye tan. That is, even "black radical» © dye seemed to be doing his hat only more brown, more govnistye.
 3. "But the warm" - that is true, even more precisely - indisputable truth. That is the magic hat of fur was so warm that even in 30-degree frost head there immediately began to sweat. And what happened next - see paragraph 4.
 4. Smell. - That it was not even the magic, and the whole of Mojo. While the cap was dry, it was tolerable. That is, it smacked of some steppe aroma of dried tarragon shit in the bushes, but so vaguely smelled. In a pinch, you can push a little deeper into the pocket of a cap and a reproachful look at the neighbor on the bus, everyone to understand that you're here there is nothing. But it was just a little sweat ... or not even that - worth at least a snowflake or a drop of rain to fall on this magical hat as she was beginning to stink. This smell was all: a bucket of slops to splash dirty nepodmytoy aunt of the yurt; mutnoglazye vultures, vultures pecking at a dead cow on the shores of little lake salty desert; fish corpses floating on the nearby chemical factory poisoned the water ...
That is, all the hard and the whole story even more not an easy life today outskirts of the Central Asian countries are concentrated in a single smell of camel wool cap. The worst thing was not even the fact that she smelled the cap so that the smell of this horror began to choke the neighborhood howling dogs and crows fell from the sky, whose heart stopped on the fly. The worst thing was that the smell immediately absorbed into the hair and wash it, scrape it out of there was impossible.

In general, the hat I wore once, then I'm her only wore in his pocket - to leave the house it was impossible because it was leaving me to school before Ma went to work, and she - the smell, so I think - immediately hat notice if I left it on a hanger and chased me to the bus stop, to pull it to me publicly on the ears.
 All winter I dragged his hat in his pocket, even when frost is over a 30, tempered, Mlyn. And, as any seasoned guy, of course, for all the winter I have not even caught a cold.
 But when spring had to climb out of a coat a jacket, turned out terrible - cap in the pocket of his jacket did not fit. So one morning I could not stand it and threw his hat into the very depths of slop-loading garbage cans machines.

That evening I was sad Mamane admitted that the hat I have probably stolen at school. Mamani is very upset - she was so proud that, thanks to her needlework I am for all the winter was not sick once. "Oh, what a pity that such a good hat and stole - for a long time Ma sighed - Of course, she was not very nice, but so warm!"