It was ten years ago. You know, probably, that plastic bags were not sold freely at the time. An empty bag could only be taken by rubbing bread out of it or pouring rice into a bowl. Naturally, the washing-drying-fitting of such a rarity was almost compulsory.

But this time passed, rolls of plastic bags of different colors and sizes appeared in business stores.

Here I come to my grandparents for a week to rest and I watch the whole week, as one, the other stands bending over the dishwasher, and as stripes-washed splash transparent balls with soap.

Naturally, before leaving, I bought them a huge roll of polyethylene and punished them not to argue about saving money. Fuck the washing and drying!

When I called the next week, my grandmother was excited to say how comfortable it was now. And I was satisfied. Until the next month she came to visit. The roll became one-and-a-half times bigger, as they wrapped the release of the container on it from the top, and also wrapped the whole package with bags there. In other words, Grandma Win.