I was about 12 or so. I was very interested in strategies such as AOEIII and Rome: Total War. Sometimes at night I sat on vacation, and then slept until two o'clock in the day)) (And what a sin to hide, even now sometimes I can hang on for a couple of days, then let go) Mom's son from the games to distract tried many times, but something did not work out in her very. And then it came to her mind the idea of my motivation: to bet with me, for a dispute shorter to take. Under the terms of the contract, I had to spend 3 summer months without a computer (totally), and she will give me 10,000 rubles in exchange for what I would like. Tom was cut off. I gathered all my will in my fist and spent the whole summer wandering through the streets and making plans for a bright future with ten carpenters in my pocket.



I think everyone knows that my mom didn’t give me any money. No, it’s not that they didn’t exist. The fact is that "We spent a lot on you and so for this summer, here is the jacket, shoes you new for the winter took, the writing table put to school and generally where do you so much?!?!It is 111.

In objection, “I have, but we have agreed!“I was called ungrateful. No, not so though. “I am not grateful, you are bad!” At that moment I stopped believing her words.

From the discussion of child psychological trauma:



xxx: So my younger brother was accused of calling the line, having sex on the phone and talking about two average salaries, though he didn’t call.

YYY: Did you call?

xxx: yes

I work in a furniture salon. Once there came a man, such a funny, simple. Well, I think I will be with him easily and unforced. I chose the bed.

He gave him a bed with a lifting mechanism. And then I am, man.

I: this bed with extra storage space is quite spacious and stylish. Between us: "in her and the mistress, in case, can be extinguished!"

M: I see it! That’s why my wife sent me here.

Both thought

I went to a local supermarket. I am standing, waiting for the seller at the confectionery. Near a dense man with a basket of foods in his hand, something carefully looking at the tables with boxes of hanging cookies. He puts his basket on the floor and slowly bypasses one table, the other. Around the next table, stumbling on his basket and evil: "Who put!“On the side of the look. Then he looks into the basket. He quietly leaned, quietly lifted, quietly left.

When I was nine or ten, my mom gave me a girl’s diary. I explained that I can write everything I want and nobody will know. It contained both various thematic sections that could be filled out and simply spread pages. Overall, the diary didn’t really interest me, but on one of these varied twists I wanted to write my impressions of a trip to a neighboring city – for me this was the first trip up to 400km!



In short, I wrote what I wanted and put a diary on the shelf. Some time later, my mom at breakfast told me how good I am and how well she wrote a story in her diary. I didn’t want to write anything personal anywhere. Even as a daily newspaper, I use the program on my phone.