The brother started repairing the apartment and offered us to take his old wardrobe, we agreed, but as it turned out, everything was misunderstood.

No matter how many arguments, quarrels and even fights can be avoided, learn to listen to each other! They are strangers or even distant acquaintances, God is with them. Married couples who have lived together for more than a decade - and the same there. They don’t pay attention to the really important signals. What is mutual understanding It is nothing more than an empty sound. Just used to and live without perceiving your partner. And to anything good, all this, of course, does not lead.



Any normal specialist, of course, knows what this can be. The answer is simple – banal boredom and fatigue from family or just common life at a given moment in time. This can only be a momentary weakness, when even the most superficial changes in the daily regime of the day will significantly affect the situation. Or it's actually pretty much run over. And there's a lot of work to do. No matter what, living with a person who wants nothing to do with you is unbearably difficult.

The fed will not understand the hungry, and the rich poor will not hear. These are all the truths that we have heard many times and have therefore ceased to pay any attention to them. At least I have always treated such phrases and expressions with mild sadness. That's how we were taught in school, yeah. So what's the use now? We are used to learning from our mistakes. We are gaining experience in practice. If I knew that I would understand the true meaning of this statement in my 40s, I would be very surprised.



I live with my husband in the village. I love fresh air, and my husband loves physical labor. He is a simple man, but very loyal and loved by me. We are not trying to pretend that we are keeping up with the times. We don't have that urban pathos. But the house has been repaired, the son is studying at a city school, and we also have everything: a bathhouse, a smoking room and the Internet have been carried out. What can the city offer then? I don't even know, I have a worse attitude towards him now than I did before.

That's because my older brother has been a city boy for 25 years. Before, as a child, we were very friends and talked a lot. Then, when he decided to live in the city, we started to distance ourselves a little bit. He was ashamed to be in my company, even though our mother is an educator and we never had a village talk. However, the brother preferred older children from a different circle. But I forgave him. I knew he was just achieving his goal. There's nothing you can do.



Having moved to the city, Sergey has long been looking for a coveted corner. He had no money, so he worked hard. For a village guy, this is not too much work, another thing is that the bosses of such workers raise very reluctantly. Who wants to transfer a person to another place, if he makes you a profit, even if he earns a penny? But anyway, the brother found a wife, moved in with her and now they live together, which Seryozha always wanted.

But let me get to the essence of the matter. Recently, my brother started renovating my apartment. Well, he did. But I did not miss the opportunity to call me and brag a little. I know what that is. Only the city birdhouse repair is one thing. But a village house, with a basement and a second floor, is a little different. Well, come on, why don't you support your brother? He and I are stuck in tongues, and he asks if I need their old wardrobe and carpet on the wall. In the city it is no longer fashionable, but we have one non-residential room with bare walls. So we could use some extra stuff. It's still a throwaway.



We agreed with Sergey and I sent my husband to the city to pick up the things of my older brother. He quickly rushed to his old "pump." When he arrived, he said that he felt uncomfortable at the meeting. My brother's whole family gathered and watched in silence as my husband loaded their old belongings. Nobody even helped. Strangely enough, I didn’t pay any attention at the time. I cooked, and my head was full of more important things than the old carpet and the closet. The child called from the city, we had to talk to him.

And Sergey called in the evening. After 5 minutes, he got down to business and asked in a slightly grizzled voice when we were going to pay for their belongings. Because, I quote: "As if in the city for them you can get good money, we have everything here is valuable." After taking a short pause from surprise, I heard another voice, Sergei’s wife, but I didn’t understand what she was saying. And then I heard my brother again. Now he offered to come, but take me food. We kind of have a lot of them. There's nowhere to go. So he and his wife will come and help us in a kindred way.

I don't even want to lie about being mad at my sister-in-law. No, they're both good. God, they gave away the old junk that no one needs, and even want to have profit. But I'll help you. We are rural, we have these products - wagons, yeah. Well, even if they come, I'd never see you again.



Over the next weekend, my brother and his wife showed up at our doorstep in the morning. Fun, ruddy. And a bottle of liquor. We acted as if we had agreed to spend the day together. It's like we don't have anything else to do just to celebrate. I had to put some cuts on the table. Pretend we're interested in hearing their stories about people we've never met. And smile. Everyone in town must be smiling. And by the end of the meeting, the brother, pretending that he was hopsy (although he did not drink - driving), demanded to carry the "harchi" to him in the car. I was hoping they had enough snacks. They also took her remains with them.

This story would end on a rather negative but not critical note. If it weren't for a few extra drinks on my part and Seryozhina's long tongue. Already when everything was settled, the food was loaded, and I calmed down, this otter came to me, away from everyone, and in the most panibrating and brazen way began to demand money from me. To be honest, on gas. They pay one half of the road and we pay the other half.



Even though I consider myself a cultured person and not at all conflicted, the blood hit me in the brain. First I started screaming loudly and swearing at my brother's wife, and then I sent him out. I don’t want them in my house anymore. I calmed down only after a good couple of hours, when Sergey probably arrived home. Didn't call back or apologize. That's how she is brotherly love. The city changes people, and I know that. Those born in the city are something else. I have never seen such audacious brazens!

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