She asked her husband, "Play with the child, I will calmly cook the soup." Closed in the kitchen. After a while I hear: “First, first, I am second! “Change the guard!” And so indefinitely long, intersecting with the hammered steps.



Then he said with a grieving voice, “Pa-a-ap, I’m usta-al! Can I sit there?” I look into the living room - the husband sleeps safely on the couch, and the three-year-old son in full ammunition (coat, helmet, gun, sword) marchs from one edge of the couch to the other and reports to himself.



I ask: What are you doing?



My dad and I are playing King of the Couch!