This happened even before the time of “fruit juice” advertising.

My cousin grew up in the “greenhouse” conditions of my grandmother... too “greenhouse.”

In any attempt to fix something, the grandmother protested.

Do not lie down! He is small!

Once in the hearts it was called "greenhouse fruit" that the grandmother did not perceive as a negative fact, but on the contrary was taken on arms.

From that day on, my grandmother called it "sweet berry".

“Who here has a sweet berry, I will bite!

My sweet cake has arrived!

It is time for the berries to sleep! and etc.

He did not go to kindergarten. Grandma is more obvious how to raise "your berry"! ! to ! to

By the way and conscious friends he rebirthed did not have, at most it is a crawling gang of "chuch-chuch, my, give", until now - not having the freedom to choose friends.

Once he was lucky to come out "in the world", 5 years already like no one.

School is not beyond the mountains, and you can't put your grandmother with you at the party - learn to communicate with peers.

He was surrounded by a bunch of children.

I am Serena.

I am Paul.

I am Egor! Let us be friends!

What is your name?

From the influx of emotions, the brother turned for support to the grandmother, she flooded in a smile from humiliation and kissed approvingly.

And I... I’m a sweet berry!

The curtain...

In the family, he was called only by name.