Shower in the morning. A piece of soap is new. and beautiful. A transparent emerald, with stars and spirals of microgalactic inside. This is the only thing: it doesn’t wash. Like a piece of plastic. I was confused, turned in my hands, and exchanged for the usual soap from the washing machine for washing. In the evening, the wife visited, said, soap so beautiful and expensive, badly bought, badly washed. I used this soap for a few days. The torture is one - until you hold in the stream of hot water, there is no hint of foam. It is a pity to throw. Then the adult son came to dinner. A small retreat: all the counters were installed in the apartment. The son immediately said: I will not save! Turn off the water while you brush your teeth. After a couple of remarks about the water leaking in the shower cabin, I was upset. And I found the word – scapegoat. I even swallowed. This is in Wikipedia: “to become accumulative and excessive sparingness, reaching scarcity.” Oh how! So here. He comes out of the bathroom, in his hand this smaragd soap. “Daddy, Mommy! You are yours! Economists!” and pulls a thin film out of the soap. The fucking! Wonder of packaging. Here's how to convince the son now that the parents are not in trouble, but blind eyes became?
The gardener.