Friends have a second child, asking what to buy for the newborn, we are going to mark. We climb the stairs, in the hands of flowers, a cake and a bathtub, the door is opened upstairs and the father of the family runs past us with the matyugs, followed by the screams of the wounded tea tree by the wife, pulling the hand of the five-year-old roaring Andrew. We frightenedly climb into the corner and cover ourselves with a bathtub for the case. Since the spouse runs slower because of the small, then we have time to hear between the shout "how you could, and who you are after that" hospitable: "Come in, we are now."

With fear we enter and wait in the hallway.

They come back joyful, smiling, laughing, the contrast is stunning.

In short, the husband was walking with the children while the wife was preparing for the guests. When it was time to return, the husband gathered Andreushin's molds and machinery and went home with him, and left the wheelchair with the sleeping woman on the site.

After five years, they both returned home. Not used to yet.