Yesterday evening at the Pushkin station of the Moscow Railway, near the stand with the schedules of the electric trains observed, as a shaved guy of the bull-like (dubble-morda-red-breast-narapashka) in despair pin the metal grid of the fence and hysterically oral on the festive dressed lady with a bunch of airballs in one hand, and a child of five years in the other.

So what now??? I don’t even know which hernia should have been drawn.
From Moscow into this shit hole!! to

Celebrately rushing citizens looked around and circled them by the bow. The snow fell quietly and everything around shone with pre-New Year's lights. The lady smiled confusedly and guiltyly persuaded the disappeared satellite not for a joke "Vlady, Volodechka! Who knew she would be in the hospital for the new year?” It seemed that Volodya was holding out of his last strength, so as not to start moving out the anger instead of the barracks on the lady.

Probably it would have happened, but here the meaningless pinching of railway property and the screams attracted the attention of two passing by, festive dressed (red caps with flashing electric lights around) Pushkin hopners. The hoppies joyfully stopped, watched a little, then said, "With the coming!", and began to play fun.
Volodya, occasionally addressing him with a rhetorical request to explain what he meant by the words "this dirty hole."

In the spark of patriotic enthusiasm, the hoppies did not notice how two employees of the line department of the militia with ice cream watched them with pleasure. The mints hastily roasted the ice cream, carefully threw the papers into the urn, approached the inhabitants and guests of the city, and began bidding and knowing the affairs. Directly in the blinking of the bulbs on their red electric headsets. (Maybe the lights were flashing in the tact of the pins. I will not tell you here)

The snow fell and people walked by. Until this ugliness did not pay attention to the old-old little grandmother in a plush jacket passing by, with a cat through her shoulder and a sucked stick under her foreheads. Grandma put the cat on the snow, approached the police from behind, and with the words
“Hey, are you making heros?”“She wrapped them both a couple of times along her back with her soaked sleeve.

And immediately it ended. Snooping and looking around, they hurried away in their official affairs. The stumblers disappeared. She disappeared, picking up the cat, grandmother. And only in the corner, like the head of a big dwarf, flashed the burning cap, and at the stand with a timetable, a slightly bored Volodya blinked his nose. The cheerful wife joyfully scratched the footprints of the shoes of the Pushkin patriots from his box and gently condemned him.
“Well, right now... we’re going home now, we’re going to dinner... I’m going to you...” And then something whispering, unclearly intimate.

But my attention was not really attracted by this everyday course of things. And I attracted my attention to this five-year-old citizen, who was held by a lady’s hand. During all the time of the events described, he not only did not be interested in what was happening, but he never even turned his head in that direction. He stood and looked with a blessed smile from under my mom’s hand to the festively decorated large tree on the train station square, sleeping citizens, and the drunken Santa Claus with the already crisp Snowball, who with a group of vacant walkers drove around the tree tree and sang “In the woods a tree was born.” And he also looked curiously at the large bright box in my forearm.

Meanwhile, the adults finally reconciled, kissed, and the three took their hands and went to the third platform. And the five-year-old citizen was walking in the middle until the very transition with the head backwards. I blinked at the end, he responded with a wide smile and showed his tongue. Probably because his hands were busy, and he had not yet learned to blink. It feels like he didn’t like anything at all.

This is somehow. Happy New Year to you, dear ones. And if suddenly any family mess, or just feelings stumbled, we ask for mercy. Just come here.