Daddy is the first man in my life I have congratulated since February 23. In general, at the age of three I did not understand what a holiday and why to congratulate my dad, but, like all kindergartens, I glued a plastic gun, which doesn’t look like a gun at all, but at the time I didn’t know such bad words yet, and I cut out a tank with a star from barley colored paper. All this nasty plastic-paper installation was stunned by Daddy, and Daddy was very irritated and delighted. By the way, my dad, as I recently learned, has a box that contains our sister apps and other New Year cards, in which I sincerely wished the 28-year-old dad health and asked not to die of old age, because I love him so much.
Dad loved me too. And all amused. As I could, so I am amused. When I was 4 years old, and my mother was lying in the nursery with my younger sister, I stayed with my dad for a week. He had clear instructions on taking care of a four-year-old girl. My mother wrote them on six pages with a small handwriting, and my dad lost the Talmud. So this week I learned to wake up by whispering and shouting, “Rot, get up! The gas team is for everyone!"To dress up in 45 seconds, to tie the ropes, to march around the apartment, to sew your socks and sing loudly and tragically with your dad the song about "Horses know how to swim too." In the evening, instead of my stories about the crab, my dad read me with the expression of Gogol’s Viya. Because I’m an adult, and for whom do I have that cloak? I need to read the classics. When my mother returned from the nursing home and saw a gray child in crumbs, but in deadly tied to three knots, I did not see Daddy for two days. That is, as if he was in the apartment somewhere, but he did not leave the room, because at every noise, my mother whispered, in order not to wake the baby, yelled: Don't get in my eyes, I will kill you!
A year later, he miraculously recovered from death. Mother asked him to drill a hole in the wall in the kitchen to hang a towel hook there. Dad broke up. But the wall was plaster, not even a wall, but a partition between the kitchen and the toilet, and the hole therefore turned out to be quite decent. Suddenly straight. Mom called Daddy with his hand, Daddy was upset and said that he would squeeze the cement at work and make this hole, what are you doing? My mother replied, cutting the chicken. You are a handjob, that’s all.
I was sitting in the bathroom and thinking about eternity. The hole in the wall didn’t bother me at all. Until my dad thought of taking a chicken leg, terrible, yellow and clawed, and pushing it into the hole. And he didn’t put the tendon behind, so that the leg began to move with dreadful fingers. And I didn’t say, “Who’s going to catch Leda’s ass now?”
My mom beat my dad with a chicken, and cried out that he should now call the trade union and ask for an urgent trip to the sanatorium on dirt, broken arms and legs to cure. And then I was afraid of chickens for ten years. And the toilets. So I don’t know why all the other grandmothers go to the toilet two by two, and I go with my girlfriends, because I am afraid that a yellow hand will catch my ass there.
Someone might think that my dad didn’t like my mom. But it is not so. I remember well the New Year 1985, when my mom’s friends came to visit us, and after twelve we fell out in the crowd. We had three saunas, three men, three of their wives, and one of my five-year-olds. The men compared their bits and the thickness of their wives, and realized that they were all in roughly the same conditions: and my lean dad, who has a thin mother and a thin daughter in his sandwiches, and a healthy butcher uncle Volodya with a hundred-pound wife of aunt Galey, and even uncle Zhenya, whose wife aunt Nina was a gymnast and weighed only 38 kg, but the uncle Zheny's hand was in a plaster. It was he who fell out of the straw the day before the tree was dressed. At the father’s cry: start, attention, march! Three white horses crashed into the halo, and the father led confidently. Just because the sandwiches turned over at the turn, my mom and I fell into a swarm, and my dad didn’t notice it. But, running through his gallop by the company of drunken accountants, he struck one, the most carnivorous. Aunt fell into Daddy's sandwiches, and pleased to drive in them half a kilometer, until Daddy turned around to show the fact to his backward rivals. A thick aunt of sixty years of age laughed happily at her dad from the saucers, and the dad shouted like a wounded bison. Because the aunt was scared, and also the wife and thin daughter were lost somewhere. He loved them! Despite the fact that his wife beat him with a chicken, and his daughter gave on February 23 plastic papers. My dad never lost me anywhere. And even when he was walking with me, and he had a beer bar on the way, he took me with him, and taught him that “Not telling my mom about what I brought you to the beer bar, and lying are two different things, Lida. You shouldn’t lie to anyone, but you should also be silent about the beverage. I’ll buy you a cheetah for that.” You know, I would have lied, but I didn’t have to. A year later, the whole family was on a bus, and as I passed by a familiar pineapple, I shouted to the whole bus: Daddy, do you remember how we went here with you?
The mother put the baby on the side and played with the muscles. The whole bus looked at Dad. The father turned red and said, “Daughter, you’re wrong. This is a disgusting beer! Could I bring my daughter there?
could! I shouted too and laughed happily. You are old and forgot. We have been there many times. You drank beer, and I bought a Chebureque so I didn’t tell my mom anything.
Because of the lack of chicken, Mom tried to knock Daddy with his bag, but Daddy turned and jumped out three stops earlier.
The entire bus applauded.
Why am I telling you all this now? Yes, because for me, February 23 was never associated with the armed forces, the army, the defense of the homeland, and so on. This was the day when I would like to congratulate my dad. Give him guns smiling on the phimosis genitalia, ask him not to die from old age at 28, go with him to the pebble for a cheetah, and forgive him Viya and a chicken foot. Therefore, all the men who now have their daughters – know: this is your holiday. Regardless of whether you serve or not. For your children, it is Father’s Day.
On Father’s Day, guys! Celebration of you.
I immediately drank.