I walk around the street, suddenly I realize that for some reason some grief has burned on me, I remembered my childhood, a sandbox, a teacher. In a moment came the realization that all this is inseparably associated with the smell of boiled cabbage, which always smells so in kindergartens. Two women met me. Judging by conversation, the teacher. It smells of them. But the strangest thing about it is that it started with me when they were 100 meters ahead! Great kindergarten cuisine.