It was a joke on Saturday. Prehistory: our beloved cat escaped to the entrance and was lost, long sought, but still found, well, from the nerves, the whole family relieved her.
And actually the story: I sit in my room and I hear how the cochondra in all pairs runs through the corridor, and behind her the grief of the desire to punish her and all kinds of insults is carried by a brother. I hear them both hiding in the room, and then from there the child’s complaining voice is: “Not eating!” Don’t beat changing!" Just a random phrase from a movie, and what an effect! Then the cat ran to hide to me, and my brother was roaring in the room for a minute.