In our village lived the same non-Krasov Russian woman. And the nickname was not Chiloé – “The King-Baba.” She simply wrapped two hundred litre barrels of beer in her "blue Danube", with one blow of her fist, knocked out the traffic jams from the barrels..The order in the barrel was perfect - one day, she just thrown through a two-meter fence with one hand. Her husband was ploughness, but he loved it without compromise, from that love and the children were under the mother's control.Once at the stop at the "shuttle car" (so we called the old Lykin buses) someone entered and the car clearly kicked. Next to my hand on behalf lay a hand - no, LAPISCHA, once five times larger than mine... Looked around - the son of the King-Baba stands, cuddles, because the head in the ceiling stands even on the back. One time, five police officers were loaded into a cage when the grandson fell asleep peacefully drunk in a cage with cactus... But this is a fairy tale.
I watched this picture with my friends. At a parking lot near the bus station of the capital of one federal district, a expensive foreign car blocked the ash - UAZik. The owner approaches him - a man with a bear-shaped figure. He looks at the situation with dismay. I swallowed a couple of times with clakson. No one reacts. He swung on the wheel of the foreigner, from which her alarm was a minute. Again, nobody reacts... Then the man just took and... pulled his ashes for the bumper as a bicycle.
The man took his UAZ, left for a couple of meters. He got up. has gone out. I thought. Then he resolutely approached the outlet and in two receptions moved it into a crash between the two other machines so that the door could not be opened. He was driving the car as if it was a garden car... Not applause, but applause sounded in the crowd. The man sat down in his ashes and left. On the number of UAZs small figures of the native region. And the figure seemed familiar... Maybe the grandson?! to