The words of a friend

My father has made the impression of an extremely unserious person all his life. And this despite the impressive dimensions, square figure and solid, especially in youth, physical training of a person who has been engaged in sports gymnastics for many years. Well, a person loves to laugh at a good joke, fish in good company and run a little before work a few kilometers simply because it was lazy to wake up to the bus.

But I had the opportunity to personally make sure that it was only one side of his nature.
“You can be a good person by caring for the beauty of your nails.” It was written by a poet. By translating this expression about my bathi, we can say:

Per a fool can be a botanist and a smart can be a force.

When I was seven or eight years old, our whole family went to rest in Moldova – my father’s brother, who settled there by distribution after school, invited in guests. Moldovan sun, fruits, delicious bread and milk in litre bottles with a narrow throat, like from the movie "Wedding in Malinovka".

Two families went to the beach. Dniester is a very fast, rapid river. Spontaneous water turns may occur.

The kids didn’t get out of the water. And not just children, there were plenty of people in the water. Our parents sat on the beach, drank quas, wine, played all kinds of games that were not common in the Soviet Union in those years, such as "mafia".

I was swimming in a swimsuit and with a mask. At some point I was very surprised: "Strangely, I swim, scratch up, and the surface of the water and the sunlight are only made away from me." I didn’t even have time to be scared. There was only a child’s surprise to an incomprehensible phenomenon.

My mother told me:

“We sit down and drink light and delicious Moldovan wine. Your father, sitting halfway to the coastline, raised a glass and said some funny “Caucasian” toast. Suddenly he jumped sharply in half a word, at two or three jumps was at the water and dive. A few seconds later, he emerged already noticeably away from the place where he escaped under water. With one hand he held you, and the other hugged you strongly. Not on the shore, but somewhere. Then he changed direction and swam to the shore. And in the place where he just sat and walked, there was a carefully placed glass of Moldovan wine.

My uncle, father’s brother, then asked him:

Did you know that you need to swim not to the shore, but across the stream of the water to leave the zone of its action faster?
and no. from where? There is no such thing in our country. But I understood it immediately, as soon as I saw that I would not crack against the current.
Why didn’t you break the glass?
What am I, the enemy? So good to scratch!

And the father continued his “Caucasian” toast.