Beginning of the nineties. My father is sick, he is in the hospital, his mother is in the garden. Just planted in the greenhouse tomatoes and on you! and freezing. seriously and for a long time. At night, it was down to minus eight. For a couple of days, my mother was involved in saving the red-skinned, but decided that I should also work for the benefit of the family, the more Batty should write out and meet him.



Call me to work - come to the garden, I will teach you to save tomatoes from freezing. I came, my mother gives me her post - here is the stove, here is the boiler on the oven, the water boils and every half hour you change the boiler with cooled water in the greenhouse for boiling from the oven.



has left. I looked at those cages, scratched the tail and walked with my extended hand through the garden. The neighbor took a large boiler, went to a friend on a neighboring street, borrowed a wire from him. Forks - the sockets were their own and after half an hour of work there was a crooked, but reliable extender, which was enough to the greenhouse. He also found two bins of strawberries, each with 5 to 10 liters, poured into them coal from the oven and hanged it in the greenhouse.

At night the coal was shaking, giving heat, the boiler boiled water in the tank, and I slept, not distracting every half hour for any smoothie. Arriving early in the morning, mom and dad found a functioning system and shaking me. And comfortable plus five in the greenhouse.



It turned out that my laziness and little technical knowledge gave me significant advantages over pure humanities.

Like a cherry on a cake - the next year there were freezes too, and my mom used my scheme, but instead of coal, she drove all the burning garbage into the cans. The greenhouse was full of smoke and all the leaves from the tomato bushes fell off. Then they grew up, but it was later.

When I was still going to kindergarten, I was poorly hearing, was not communicative. Children are generally angry at those who see poorly and hear poorly, and one boy has insulted me all the time. He pulled his hair, pinched, called, well, the classic of the genre. And once I could not stand it, and I cut it off. I remember I was just covered by a white diaper of anger, and I... Well, in general, the next day we go to the garden with my mom, and we are waiting for this boy with his mom. And his mother begins to complain that your daughter beat my son yesterday. I was the youngest in the group, almost a year younger. And the boy is above my head and generally healthy. Mom says to this woman, look at her and her son. If she beat him, what was it for? The woman looked at her son, breathed, took him by the hand and left silently. It was my first victory in society.

Today I heard a compliment that I have a brutal face. The reason for this is a few visible scars. He immediately began to smile because he remembered the "brutal" origin of these scars. A scar on the eye - tried to break a rod to fight with a urticaria. The stick gave up. A scar on the eyebrows - played with a metal tube from a vacuum cleaner in a ninja turtle. has lost.

A healthy economy is when cows are more profitable than officials.

Dad decided to put the hamster on the table to run. The hammer of happiness first stumbled, then began to chew a bag of dry quas. Dad pulled him away, and then the hamster ran to the wipes, took one, stuck it entirely in his mouth, but it didn't get in, and so the piece was torn. Dad rattled over this and drove the hammer back into the cage, where the hammer first came to his house, took the towel from his cheeks, put it on, covered it and fell asleep.

The old Russian fun of sticking the expiration date on products today came to a new, state level.

I regularly watch posts about the conflict between consumers and shops. I wanted to tell you about my experience. There were a lot of fun things, I might write about them. Now a little about something else.

The motto prefix, sadly, means that our buyers are unexpectedly deadly much more often than we would like. It happened that they ordered spare parts for a motorcycle, paid for it and disappeared. And then one day I call to tell you that spare parts have arrived and I am answered by a woman’s voice. I asked the employer, but in response, "He died, I am his mother. What did you want?” I try to explain that her son ordered spare parts, paid them entirely, but suddenly I understand that this is all in the form of spare parts and I just offer her to return the prepayment. Apparently the woman did not understand what I wanted, said that I should not bother her anymore and put on the phone.

I don't know why I was so itchy, but I put spare parts for sale, sold it, and the amount there was a lot. I call the same number again, but it’s already out of the area. Through social networks, I find a dead customer, calculate his girlfriend, explain her the situation, she gives contact to the customer's mother. For a long time the woman could not understand and believe that I was asking her to come to the store so that I could give her the money. I finally realized that I came with a cake. The store did not suffer losses. My conscience too.