Yesterday I agreed with my friends that I would visit them. I arrived a little earlier than scheduled. I knock at the door.
There is a child’s voice:
Who is there?
This is Victor. Open it up, Andrew.
They, by the way, have a son who is 6 years old.
I went into the apartment, started dressing up and asked:
Where are Mom and Dad?
A. They went to the store. They said they will soon be.
While dressing, he brought my shoulders, took the jacket, said he would hang it himself.
I went into the room, sat on the couch, turned on the TV.
Andrew comes in and asks:
Would you have tea?
No thank you.
I thought a little.
And the coffee?
“No, Andrew, I already drank this coffee at work.
Another second stupor.
From work, right? Maybe a cognac?
This is childhood hospitality.