The pedagogical poem.
(based on A. Makarenko)

I have a colleague. She is my immediate boss. She is a very attractive female person. She is the owner of an invaluable treasure in the form of a seven-year-old son.

One day his son grew up somehow: that is, he was thrown out on a walk.
Interesting websites. Who is to blame and what to do?

It is his own fault. Give good to use a computer for cartoons and toys. What to do? The husband helpfully offered the old grandfather's way, which a colleague reasonably noted that if his parents were so treated to the playing cards found in his childhood with fun pictures, then the son he might never have. And although Makarenko did not throw away the physical influence on the body of education, professional pride (candidate of pedagogical sciences) did not allow to go a rough road.

"I will deal with the child myself," the mother thought, and there was an educational conversation with the son.

Well what, my son. Liked it?
The son lowered his eyes, but at the last moment his mother noticed a surprise in his gaze: "Ha! Could it not like it?”
Do you know what a website is for adults?
The child according to kicks, even lower down the head.
Do you want to grow up soon?
The head is excitedly raised.
“Who doesn’t want to, Mom? What stupid questions you are asking! Adults have so many possibilities. You can eat ice cream every day as much as you want. You can jump on trampoline in the park all day. You can watch this on the internet with your neighbor.
A man who told me how to find it. You can... e-heh! What is not possible!

Well well! So from now on, son, you are an adult!
“Wow!”
But do you know that adults live differently? Adults, for example, do not go to school, do not teach.

“And she will tell me! Every day I envy you and my dad with black jealousy. My dad came from work – television. You are in the kitchen, a computer. I am the lesson! Go to sleep at 9 o’clock!”

So here is! You don’t go to school on Monday.
Wow Wow Wow Wow Wow Wow! Ye-e-e-e!”
and Mom! Can I play some game then?
Of course son. You are adult! Why do you ask? You can do what you want.

(10 minutes later, the actors are the same, the place of action is the same)
Give me the garbage, please.
“The hell! These boots are going to shake me! Okay, I’ll take a break.”
(In another 10 minutes)
The son! Go to the store! Daddy is coming from work, and we have little bread.
“Fuck it!”
My son, live it! Here is your list. Buy a kilogram of potatoes, a pack of oil... and make sure that the oil is good, without vegetable fats. Even in the vegetable department you will buy peanuts, green onions, half a kilogram of cucumbers, half a kilogram of tomatoes: I will make a salad for dinner. Make sure the vegetables are fresh, not dull. What do I explain to you! You are adult!

(After half an hour)
Have I bought? The young man! This is smart! How-do you do? Thiruk nah kuhe! The potatoes help to clean.

(After half an hour, when a bunch of purification and a few peas were rolled near his son, which recently was proudly called the KILOGRAM OF CARTON)
You can see how fast we got together! Now you can play. Start with socks first. There you have a hole, I wanted to, but now you are an adult. So be kind!

(A little later, all the same and the dad who came from work)
You know, my son! (Taking the son out of the ropes and throwing out what was a little hole socks an hour ago), I thought. When you’re grown up (we and daddy didn’t have time to prepare for it somehow), I’ll talk to aunt Waley – she’ll find you a job. All adults have to work. And since you don’t have a profession yet, she will make you a courtier in our JEKE. Then we will find something else.

“Figase! Something is wrong here! It’s 9 o’clock and I don’t really want to play.”
by Opanki! Go to Back! Adults don’t go to bed so early. Help me clean my clothes. I’ll make it, and you make it. Tomorrow Saturday is holidays. I don’t want to work all day. We will clean up in the morning, each in his own room.
...
Is it eleven? So what, Dad? We go to bed? You also go to bed.
Get up early tomorrow.

The light.
Get up my son! and Auckland! Great things await you!

The feet in the shoes, ten steps to the bathroom, so close always and so far away today. Five minutes of sleeping on the toilet, five minutes over the washing machine, twenty minutes at the table on a plate with breakfast. The child raises his eyes at his mother, who sits opposite him with the same untouched breakfast and looks at him with a smile. It is his mother. All the same kind, affectionate mother, who will not let anyone hurt him. Who still loves him. He approaches her, habitually kneels, sticks his nose into my mom’s chewing hair and whispers “on his ear”:

Mom, I understood it all! I want to have childhood!