I was 5 years old. So it happened that my dad loved plov and often cooked it, but I, on the contrary, hated this dish with all my soul. And in general, getting me to eat was a rather difficult task. And one day, my father and I had this dialogue (further P-papa):

Do you want soup?

I : No.

Q: Why is it?

I: It is not delicious.

Q: And the salad?

I : No. I do not like.

P: Then I’ll make a shit for you tomorrow.

I (with an upset sight) what, again flooded what? by : (

P.S. I love to swim.