Children’s attachment to things. Here I sit with my wife and son (4 years old) for lunch. Dinner is not the most exquisite, pasta with sausages. This seems to be an ordinary moment. On the floor falls a slide. I go up and throw it into the garbage. And here, full of universal sorrow, the cry of a child:
A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A Daddy doesn’t give up!
I am stupid, and he grabs her out of my hand and lays her with tears with his finger.
Makaroshka a! Dad wash her.
I had to wash under the crane, only after he ate it all tired. One day the fish died, so he did not shed a tear. But here the pasta fell on the floor such a tragedy.