When I was a child in the village, I was a rare hooligan, I loved to smoke. My parents went to town and left me and my aunt. My aunt went to the garden, sprinkled the carrots, and of course, she took me with her – not to leave one of the demons.

In the garden I then fled somewhere, then hid, which caused my aunt to be angry. Then I got a “good” idea. In the garden was excavated a boiler with water for irrigation. And next to the cottage is a grown hill of land from cottage. I calmly approached the cottage to see my aunt play. And then, when she turned away, I picked up a large stone and threw it into the pebble, wildly crawled and hid behind the hill. After a scream, the stone with a loud rush went under water. And after that, her aunt cried out, she was so frightened that she rushed through the whole garden on a super-sound to rescue her nephew who had fallen into the cave... When she ran, I stood up from across the hill with such a satisfied smile, as if I had just passed through the lively track of four hundred grandmothers.

My aunt did not share my fun and filled me with ringing lilies. Then the parents came and, when they learned about what happened, added to me no less calling counters. My aunt refused to take care of me.

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