My grandmother was from, softly to say, not a very well-to-do family. Her parents and 4 children lived in a room where there were 5 families. All in 15 square meters. I can hardly imagine this, but according to the stories, we slept there in turn, and the lessons went to the district library. Food - pasta on vegetable oil, potatoes - on it. On the feast - white bread and cooked egg.

And here she got married...She is a beautiful student of MGU, he is a beautiful geologist. One day she moved to her husband’s parents. And there is a housewife, coffee in the morning, all the work.

The mother-in-law, in order to show the reception of the bride, arranged a "happy dinner". Chicken, fish, forshake... I cooked it all myself.

And my grandmother, who saw the fried chicken for the first time in her life, said, “Thank you, but I don’t like the chicken!”

For the next 20 years, at all family celebrations, the mother-in-law said, "Oh, love the chicken don't put... she doesn't love! “”

And here, when the grandmother finally decided to admit - that she loves the chicken, only embarrassed then, the mother-in-law issued a brilliant phrase: "Oh... stupid you are! She would say to me, "Mommy, let me help you bring the salad," I would tell you all in the kitchen quietly! You think I knew it all when the Harkov housewife suddenly became the wife of the ambassador! “”

The lesson. I now, if I don’t know something, or I don’t understand, I say it right away – because a man can’t know everything 😉