XX: They told me a story from my childhood. I was small, I don't know how old I was, my mother urgently needed a few minutes to go somewhere away. And she risked leaving me under the supervision of my older brother. She promptly instructed him, and, among other things, said, “Don’t give him an iris, otherwise he will die!” Probably decided to scare up with the stock. She returns, and – of course – he is on her doorstep with enthusiasm: “Mom, you imagine, I gave him Irisky – and he wasn’t dead!!!”