In the morning, I think my kids are NPS. While you look at them, they move, dress, gather to school or kindergarten. But it is worth to get out of the room as they fade and all their activity stops.

My lessons are like that. You sit with him and do everything in half an hour. You leave, in half an hour, all on the same task. Well understandably distracting, I used to play, painted all kinds of warheads on the sheet. I decided to follow, I went, I looked into the room, and he was just sitting and looking into the wall. Type of Slip regime. A terrible PDC.

My 70-year-old aunt is a very interesting person. She loves to rush until late, but every day she wakes up at 7 a.m. to... open the clothes! (He lives in the private sector. Then go to sleep again about 12.

Once she came to my mother’s birthday (sister’s) and was back home at seven o’clock. Mom said to sit down again, we haven’t seen each other for a long time, even if we’ll talk. Unfortunately, I can’t, I need to close. I no longer endured this universe mystery with stakes, I ask why? ? to ? to

“Well,” said the aunt, “if I come late and close the stall late, the neighbors will say, ‘I’m going somewhere. And if I don’t open it in the morning, it’s going to be late, Sonja.

Well and what? ? to ? to I was honestly surprised. Do you know what your neighbors will say?

Well, no, it will still be a bad thought, aunt breathing.

Do you talk to them because they care about you? I still don’t understand.

Not...

That is how my aunt lives. He loves to visit, but can’t afford to sit down. She likes to sleep long, but must get up early.

And all because “what will the neighbors say? ? to ? “

There is a man in our office, let’s say, Igor Viktorovich. He is well for forty, but his soul is young. The spirit of adventure is alive and beats the key.

At one of the sidelines, when everyone had already drank a little and had conversations, jokes, stories.

Igor Viktorovich suddenly stood over the table. Attracted the attention. And he said, “Friends, let’s smoke the same thing! I have it!”

No one would mind, but Igor Viktorovich, where did he come from?

- And I was cooked, he said cuddly.

Who is?

The children smoked in the garage. I was ashamed and took it.

I did not know my father from birth. My question is, “Where is he? “My mother replied that he died in the war (I was born in 1996, so either Chechnya or Croatia).

I didn’t believe it and asked my grandmother the same question. Obviously, her improvisation was not prepared in advance, and the grandmother replied, “it was eaten by cats.” When I told her my mom’s version, she said without thinking for a second, “In the war and they ate.”

Life is terribly unfair: who is the crown, who is the virus.

The boy got out of the bus, looked around, saw the urn, and threw a ticket into it. Ticket is fake. The guy picked up four times, kicked, swallowed. He pulled the gum out of his mouth, weighed the ticket and still threw it into the urn.
A few minutes later, I saw another guy take out a bag of baked meat from Bush and give it to a bomja standing nearby. He was very grateful and grateful to him. Then he grabbed and got a coin of 10 rubles: Please, give it to the bartenders.

This is Peter, little boy.

Bright thoughts and a bright morning. Be happy, or whatever you want.

Russia will send Vladimir Soloviev to Italy to tell them that they are well.