My father is a military officer, head of a food warehouse. Every month, in addition to his bowl, he brought home and the remaining unnecessary products, and it turned out that we had the entire kitchen and balcony filled with bags of flour, crops, stools. And at the age of five I was able to pull some foods to a lonely old lady from the neighboring yard, she worked in my kindergarten as a babysitter and loved me very much. The parents found out when the notary called them. My grandmother died by rewriting her apartment to me.

Listened