Once we came to visit my mother-in-law, and she began to sort out the garbage in the closet, took out old plates from there and handed me

No matter how much time has passed since the collapse of the USSR, the Soviet soup plate, a bottle of fish and even the famous wall, originally from Czechoslovakia, still have many more. Although, it would seem, real museum exhibits, and no one for some reason is needed. It is all about the mass production of absolutely identical goods. They have all seen them, they are all well known, and they are all very tired.



That's not 100% true, though. There are still people, mostly elderly, who are more expensive than any Ikea. In such objects of the past, they see their youth, prospects and dreams. Sometimes they come up with absurd ideas. Repair in retro style: glasses with cupholders, a deer head on the wall, a folding table in the kitchen. Maybe it used to be relevant, but now it says a lot about the owner of such an interior. It's too much.

I noticed that the old generation is always talking about the new. That is, not only now, when they have children, except to sit in the computer, do not know anything else. It used to be the same thing. It was said about us that we all did not learn, we will not achieve anything, here before there were people in the Soviet Union — nails to make of them.



So here's my opinion on this - all this is the nonsense of a siv mare. It can't be that the whole generation is suddenly worse. The world does not stand still, it develops. And only if you don't move forward with him, if you wall off from him, then yes, the next generation could have big problems.

Here is my mother-in-law, she is such a person that she can not be changed. Stubborn, self-confident and very nostalgic for the old days. She and I don’t live together, thank God I couldn’t stand it. But she still manages to annoy me. Maybe it was such revenge that I took away her only son. Well, it's worth thinking about, really. What if?

I moved from another city to study. I liked it so much that I asked my parents to buy me an apartment here. We're not millionaires, don't think about it. But I still have my grandmother's house in my hometown, which is pretty good. So after six months of searching, we managed to draw up a deal that was beneficial for both sides. After that, I moved from the hostel to a little tired, but my two-piece.



After the wedding, my husband and I moved in. I'm not in favor of a man having to gnaw money for a woman. It's not about me. But, of course, some financial issues lie entirely with the spouse. And here's the thing: repairs are definitely not one of them. I just like to create the atmosphere at home. And I can do it a little bit.

I am a supporter of minimalism and clean, light walls. I love having plenty of space, fresh air and a minimum of dust. My husband is cooler, he doesn’t care. But someone does not care where her “son” will live, so it’s mother-in-law. God damned me to invite her to us somehow, a relative, though. And it was a failure.

All evening she would go from room to room and point her index finger at the places she wanted to change. And I probably won’t surprise anyone, but our views on interior issues are very different. In her dreams, you need to make everything under a tree so that all the surrounding furniture and floor merge into one brown spot. Furniture needs, by the way, the sea. To have boxes of boxes. Oh, yeah, one more thing!



Peels Icons! I do not understand how this woman does not have any contradictions in her love for Soviet power and piety. But nevertheless, a fact is a fact. The day after I invited her to my house, which I regret to this day, she came to me herself, uninvited, and presented a huge, massive and all black icon. She looked as if I had asked her for this service.

There was nothing to do, I accepted the gift. Although I decided to take the image to the balcony, cover it with something and safely forget about it. I hate keeping something on the balcony, but it's life, and sometimes you have to make sacrifices. Later, when my husband returned from work, I asked him to find people on the Internet who could take the icon for themselves, albeit for free. But for some reason he pouted at me, even though he promised to help.

Like I said, I didn't want to invite my mother-in-law anymore. But I respected my husband’s desire to visit my mother. So two days ago we got dressed, bought a delicious cake in the store and went to my mother-in-law's house. Find out what's going on. I was hoping that the subject of her vision of my apartment was already hushed up. There was something to lie about the icon. But overall, the mood was positive. I even liked the weather.



Takprosto, however, had other views on the evening. Starting with the fact that she criticized my taste, because “when there is no furniture in the house, it is not style, but poverty!” And I just couldn't bring myself to argue with a woman more than twice my age. And the husband just kept silent and pretended that it did not concern him. But it didn't end there either.

Then the mother-in-law, with the help of her powers and her son, pulled out a bunch of different junk from the niche. It was everything from skiing to samovar. Of the most memorable, I saw a bunch of toys, a wall clock without glass, a set of dishes, paintings, books and even a broken tricycle. Everything is older than me or somewhere my age. And everything is dirty, dusty. Just no words.



In addition to the listed rubbish, another icon was extracted outside, in an even more deplorable condition than the one lying on my balcony. My mother-in-law presented me with it, as well as some antediluvian set of dishes and wished that my grandchildren and my husband would admire their “beauty”. At that moment my nerves couldn’t stand it and I started protesting loudly. Of course, waiting for my husband's support. But it simply did not follow at such a critical and critical moment.

We went home in a taxi in silence. In the trunk with us rolled a set of dishes, and the husband held his mother’s icon. We looked out the opposite windows and didn't say a word all the way. After paying the taxi driver, my husband asked me to carry the dishes, because his hands were already busy. I silently agreed. I used to hate the smelly trash cans near the entrance. But that night I thought it might be fate. Two seconds - and a set of ancient, tasteless dishes was at the bottom of the tank. Without saying a word, I went up to the apartment.



I haven't heard a word from my husband in two days. I don't even know if it's good or bad. Now there are two icons on my balcony, and nobody knows why they are there. If it happens that my mother-in-law is the fault of my divorce, I probably won’t be too upset. But if not, I think we need a family psychologist. Without a professional in our time, there is nowhere.