We live in America. I cooked some borscht. The child liked.

-And maybe tomorrow I go to school to take it for lunch, only you just pour me a soup, with suspicious enthusiasm asked the son. No problem, they were poured into a plastic box, handed over to school.

He comes from school and is so happy. We ask how things are.

"My friends asked me at lunch what soup it was, I replied that it wasn't soup, just we in Russia love to eat bull blood and started breaking borscht with a spoonful.

- Friends for neighboring tables fled and they were almost tired, he joyfully finished the story.