One summer I visited my grandmother and there was an accident. Not with me, but my uncle. He got under the car and severely broke his leg. But it was not easier for me.

His leg was sealed with iron sticks so that it became like the leg of a Terminator. He sat on the couch all day and watched TV. In principle, it was fine, but there was one big and disgusting “BUT”.

He himself could not get up from the couch and if he had to get up, he called for help. I rushed and grabbed the steel structure, pulling his foot out of bed. I also raised her back.

He also had two daughters, but they were weaker than me and could not do that.

And he called me even when he wanted to go to the toilet. And since he was lazy to walk, he urinated in the bowl, and I had to pour it out.

I hated those moments. I waited with horror for him to call me and started shaking from his voice. Finally, I was tired of it, but to refuse, considering my age, I did not know how and just hid.

Without calling me again, he apparently realized that I was licking and introducing a new tactic. He shouted, “Daughters! Find him! “” And my cousins ran around the area looking for me and finding me somewhere on a tree or in the raspberries, and sometimes in the basement, touching me with their fingers, whispering, “He’s here!”