I don’t remember the details, but somewhere.
My wife and I are in the bedroom, not so late in the morning, not so early in the evening.
Suddenly, in the kitchen, the whistle is not the fork, not the glasses - understandably, the cat
The dividing table. What is punishable. Well, I’m blowing up, like "Stay Out", and I’m running,
Soften in the kitchen. Three rooms with a turn. The Wife Running:
"You catch it, you catch it!"
I don’t know what the aunt thought, but in the kitchen she, fucking, stumbled".