The columns began to bark - the wire went away again, it needs to be paired. My hands are like flat, I know what to do there, because I’ve already seen it. I went, took Papa's solder, a spare plug like it was somewhere, I sit, pail, under my nose I sing something like "confets-solder".
The door opens, he looks at the dad who has just come from work. He looks at the whole thing... And so thoughtfully says:
- Mдааa, you get married - don't admit that you know which side of the solder to hold. Or he will escape.