I live in California, in a small town. My daughter was in 4th grade, she loves iron, shooters, boy clothes. The dress is worn a couple of times a year in the church, in visits, in theaters and then with battle. I only go to school in jeans and shirts. The hair is slightly shorter than the shoulder... in many ways it is the influence of her cousin, the son of my sister, he is slightly older. He lives in San Francisco, which is cool in itself, in addition, he is very tall, beautiful, terribly smart, participates in the Olympics, plays guitar. In short, our Sasha is proud of his brother and tries every way to be like him, wears all his T-shirts and hats and looks into his mouth (mostly on Skype, but daily :-) )
There are no Russians in our school.
And here suddenly from Norway comes a professor with his family, on the sabbatical, former Leningraders, their boy of the same age comes to our school. Our Sasha is urgently introduced to him by the director and asks for custody, as the boy's English is worse than Norwegian and Russian. Here the kids are playing, Sasha tells us something about a new friend every day... I already wanted to invite them to us, I spoke to a Norwegian mother... and she so touched me and said: and to us about your daughter the son never told us anything. I speak strangely, they are on all the changes together. And she: yes, no, he is a friend with a Russian boy, such a boy, they are called Sasha. I was surprised, I think, well worked out, missed out that the Russians have appeared long ago.

At home, I ask my daughter: what is your Russian boy Sasha? She says, “I don’t know... I was surprised, but I already binge guessed what was going on.

The next day I see a Norwegian mom, she’s laughing and says, “Our son came from school yesterday and tells us, ‘My friend Sasha said he’s a girl!’”