We go to bed with my wife, I stretch my hand under the pillow and touch her phone there. I ask :

What does your phone do under my pillow?

The wife says:

It will start to vibrate loudly, waking up the daughter.

Why not put it under your pillow? I ask you.

I am afraid it will explode. The wife answers.

O_O

Laughed a little. But the settlement remained.

Coming to Accounting.

I sit on a computer.

Running Accountant - Eyes of 50

Girls, what to do? ! to ? to ! to ? to ! to ? to

And what happened?

The boss yesterday asked to send N amount to the supplier, was drunk, wrote a text message so that there were no questions in the morning.

Now he calls and says, "I didn't tell you anything yesterday, I was in the shit. Take a phone.”

And he has in my contacts recorded the Red Berry Goat.

I changed his name in contacts, and in SMSs he is not changed! ! to

I was tormented for 20 minutes.

The programming

Do something.

Eventually I gave up like that...

One of the creators of the theory of controlled nuclear synthesis, the academician of the USSR Academy of Sciences Mikhail Aleksandrovich Leontovich did not like jackets, necklaces and walked everywhere, dressed in a simple way. One day, he and his colleagues met at the airport with a delegation from the United States who flew to Moscow for a symposium. One American professor, having received a baggage, began to look for a carrier. Leontovich was caught in his eyes in a worn cowboy, and the American handed him a heavy suitcase and a dollar. Leonovich cried out, but I put the donos in the car.

How surprised was the American scientist when he saw that the symposium was opened by this known carrier.

During the break, a confused overseas guest approached Leontovich with an apology:

Sorry, I insulted you with my dollar bill. Let me take her.

No is! Leontovich answered proudly. I earned that dollar honestly.

It should be noted that at the moment with writers in the world things are going well. There is a lack of readers.

eight rubles

I earned the first eight rubles - when a friend and I came to the vegetable market, the seeds to bite, crawl. And one seller offered tomatoes to be guarded while he was in business. We were 11 years old.
I sold all the tomatoes at the average market price. People approached and asked. Asked to sell.
I asked the neighbor at the place:
How much are your tomatoes worth?
He put on five copies. The goods were terribly beautiful.
This owner comes and let us say that the price is too low for such a product. And then asked the "neighbor" how much he sold and looked at the empty pots in his house!!! He gave me five and three rubles!! to

He would trade his goods for ten more days.
And then two boys in a couple of hours, with angelic eyes, sold beautiful tomatoes, wholesale, but for retail. Not knowing anything about trade.

It was in mid-July.
When my uncle offered to work for him: to sell tomatoes, we and Lechka agreed, not thinking!
They ate ice cream and candy. But his conscience rebounded and he gave the money to his mother. My mother looked at me and my father looked respectfully at me.
I earned 150 rubles in a month!!! Would you see my parents’ eyes when I pulled out the money!!! Rubles and rubles.
It was a bunch of money!

A new school year has begun. I did not go to the market anymore. Students and classmates were more interested.

There is no place for fear in my work. If you show fear, you are all dead.
Who are you working for?
Teacher in kindergarten.

My husband and I became parents for the first time. He was 20, I was 18. He took me to the nursery.



I give birth. Oral I am in the process or not I do not remember. I remember only that the thought was constantly revolving in my head, "just not matom." And here is the baby at the midwife, the first whisper. I’m tired and I can’t believe it’s over. And then the midwife throws the phrase out loudly: "Oh, what a Chubaisic!"



My tired brain sees an analogy with electricity and doesn’t understand what it means. He searches for other options, but does not find a decryption. I ask, “In the sense?” “Look what a red man!” And he smiles. I see. How do you know what color your hair is? When was he born here? I can only see that it is shallow, hair is long.



She washed her son, she swallowed, she gave me. And he continues, “Who’s your red? Probably with Dad.” And then I realize that my hair is really red. No one has to be like that. I am light pink. My dad is black. “No,” I answered on the machine, “Our dad is black.” "Mmmm, understandably," the midwife pronounces long and disapprovingly looks at me leaving the chamber.



My brain begins to panic. How is it? What is a genetic disorder? I try to remember what there was in genetics at school. by Fig. What is Genetic Chemistry? I do not remember anything like that. You just gave birth.”



For some reason I was terrified. Stress seems to have affected. I lie down and think how to talk to relatives. Not his husband, but his parents. Really terrible. "How to drink, they will decide what has gone on. I will say the height, I will say the weight, I will not say the color of the hair," I decided.



The nurse just brought me the phone so that I could call my own. He is turned off. It was I before the nursery on the request to "disconnect the phone" instead of the sound to turn off, cut it out silently. I don’t remember the pin. Absolutely. The two. The nurse came in and gave me her phone. I picked up my husband, he dictated me a pin. I call back from my own. When I talked to my mom, it was over an hour. There is nowhere to pull further. It was time to call his parents.



I call. And my mother immediately handed him out to me with an unstoppable tirade in the style of aunt Trindychi: "Oh, we've all learned it ourselves. I got a call half an hour ago. We were told that everything went well, and that a boy, and that 54 cm, and that 4100, and that RED!!!" And a pause. and pause! “Everything floated...” I thought and answered affirmatively. Words have disappeared. I can say nothing more.



And she, apparently, desperately waiting for me to wait for something apart, continues: "Oh, well, you are tired, rest, gain strength! Eat well and be smart. There is milk! Okay, you must be red! Go to my grandfather!” Something else is still talking, but I can’t hear it.



“To my grandfather!” My brain is attached. To your grandfather! Such relief, neither before nor after, I never felt again.



P.S I don't know if my grandfather or my husband and I just combined the genes, but the second son is also red. And the color is even more saturated and brighter than the older man was in his childhood.