of domestic talents.

I loved coffee in my youth. Time and energy then was a waste, they were enough for all kinds of fanberies, and therefore coffee for me must be fresh, strong and with foam, otherwise no.
And here is the misfortune - my coffee mill is broken. Nothing to do, you have to carry it to repair, which has to be postponed until the weekend, and while I buy a large bag of coffee mill and live on, and deeply suffering from the imperfection of the world.
On Saturday morning, my future husband comes to me, I make coffee and complain to him that the coffee mill has broken, and before the movie we will have to throw it for repair.
“Let me see,” he says. It scratches her, something else is there spinning 10 minutes with the screwdriver, and, wow! she worked out.
I went home in the evening, and my parents arrived. I tell them about the repaired coffee mill. Mother and father are very pleased and surprised. And only a week later my mom told me that she took the coffee mill for repair for a week and just picked it up on Friday evening, but because of it. They left early in the morning, and I came back when they were already asleep, she didn’t have time to tell me about it.