Once upon a time, almost seven years ago, we sat with friends at a non-nuclear table, drank vodka, snack fried peelings. We celebrated the anniversary – my daughter was born! They washed all kinds of legs and other hardcores. And then at some point, Anton, who was at that time already a daddy with a traineeship, addressed me with these words: "And yet a boy is better than a girl!" And now there is). I, too, a lot of such a buchy with a slight insult ask: "Yes, is it from FIG? Well, he started in the sense that the guys are all kinds of machines-automatic robots-karate. And the girl is dolls-dresses-soppy-bands. The sadness is shorter. But he could not convince me of his right. And then he pulled out his last, most deadly argument: "But imagine that in 16 years your daughter will come home and say, "Dad, here in the neighboring entrance there is a boy Egorka, I love him and he fucking me." But after thinking for a second, I replied, “I imagine that in 16 years your son will come home and say, ‘Dad, here in the neighboring entrance is a boy, Egorka, I love him and he fucking me.’