Recently, I decided to move to my mother’s village from the troubled capital, only after living with her, I noticed something I had never seen before.

We're used to the fact that sibling They are formed in early childhood. This is how they will get along with each other, so in the future everything will happen. If they argue, quarrel over any reason, someone will fly away anywhere and will not remember each other. They will only see each other on family holidays. If they accept each other, it will last forever.



But there is another factor that affects their relationship. Parameter, which is better known in rural families, and in urban is not so popular. Very simple: parents. If parents love one of the children more, then they will instill such an attitude towards the other child from an early age. This is especially true when it comes to age: a younger brother or sister is always easier to breathe.

Because of the situation in the country, I decided to move from a troubled city to my mother, to the village. My husband left to protect us, and my little son is not yet four years old. And in the village there is fresh air, silence, nature. And I have to admit, I missed my mom a lot. So, having bought some hotels and packed some things, we got in the car and drove away.



My mother had been warned in advance, but she met me a little horny. Like she wanted to tell me something, but she couldn't get the nerve. Well, I took things to the house, laid the child and sat down at the table to share with my mother impressions, to tell about the news. No sooner had I brought a spoon to my mouth than the roar of the old, tired Niva was heard outside the door.

The sound was familiar to me, as was the driver of a car that had seen it: Uncle Fedor. My mother's brother and my uncle. A person, as it were, his views on life. Believe me, I am not trying to be diplomatic. He's the youngest child in the family. My grandparents didn't like it when my mom did all the work for two. That was a habit back then.

And when he fell from a tree at the age of sixteen and badly injured his arm, he was literally “brought to the rank” of an eternally ill boy who always needed help. In general, the uncle grew up quite wayward, brazen and behaved as if everyone owed him something. Especially, unfortunately, my mother succumbed to this influence. I always did. It's like she was programmed like that.



When Peels entered the house, without even bothering to knock, he just as he was, wearing shoes, climbed up to embrace first with his mother and then with me. In two words, he took out a bottle and put it on the table. I can certainly skip a little if there is a reason. I would never drink with my uncle. Health is more expensive.

After a hearty dinner, my uncle tried to get up and go to his guest room, but I dragged him out. After all, my little son was already snoring. So Fedor had to go to a large room adjacent to the corridor. What does he care where he sleeps? He didn't even take off his sweater, though there's frying outside?!

As I later realized, my uncle didn't come to his sister just to live or help with the housework. It was like a sanatorium to him. He ate his belly. No one bothered him to drink either. His wife, a poor woman, must have thanked God for the opportunity. I don't envy her. Oh, he's also found some friends. Also, if you understand, not at all educated gentlemen.



Every time I saw another rude uncle act, I immediately told him about it. Stopped, sometimes even screamed. I could see how he didn’t like it, but there was nothing he could do. And he is not one of those who will throw, especially at a woman. But groaning is another matter. Hissing under his nose, swearing. I'm not really interested in that. Let it.

A week later, it was time for my cousin to leave. How much he ate and how much he worked, there is nothing to compare. Lazy and darmoid like the light I've never seen. But, I see, I've been working since this morning. It goes to the cellar, then to the geese. I think maybe it's such a farewell chord that I end up changing my mind about it. No, honey, I'm not that stupid.

And then I walk past his clunker and look: neatly folded cans with twists! It's all mushrooms, berries, stew, lard. Here come the goose eggs, please! And a lot, half a salon! I remember picking that raspberries and rolling them with my mom. For the sake of this boar to take everything?!



I called my uncle to get some water, said I had to do the housework. He whined a little, but he went. And during that time, I took the egg cans back. Inside. I just left some nasty stuff - well enough for him. I think you should come home and eat. Why not? But this beetle somehow smelled my movements and came running to swear.

Mom heard our fight, and let's go along with it. Like, let him take it. They have bad food in the city. She can't eat it all alone. And here we go. I had to give him a couple more cans, but on the condition that he, without wasting time, immediately leaves. So he did, in fact, taking someone else's chicken with him along the way. I didn’t know she was a neighbor at all. I got a laying bag.

After our serious conversation with my mother, I found out that, in her opinion, she still owes him. After all, he went to the city and gave up his part of the house. He could even claim and sue. Of course, I said that the house in the village now does not cost a lot of money, and so he has his own dacha and do not need to work. But my mother didn't hear me. She stayed with her.



That's how it happens. How long has it been since their childhood? Too many. And as their parents taught each other to be masters and servants, so it was. I'm sad that I can't convince my mom. But it's just beyond my power. Next time I'll try to find my uncle in town and talk to him in person. I'll ask my husband to call. Do you think we should get into a brother-sister relationship? I don't think I can do it otherwise.