The village was undergoing repairs, the swokers opened the basement and warned: be careful! The floor is open, don’t fall!
After two hours they went out, drank tea and again reminded: the basement is open, right behind the entrance door, be careful!
But what kind of caution can be in the ass if a child of one and a half years of age told mother A-A, and the pot on the street?
I opened the door and went down. Well, one leg only; the other hit; but the mother-in-law was standing below! Which frightened my leg and grabbed her down.
No, no one was upset. The child got a pot, the mother - a journey to the traumatologist, the husband - a reason to roast over me for another two years))))))) What I am still surprised - how I managed to fall, when I hit my leg on the gland, in horror of the fact that something caught me in the foot - not to say a single motherly word. The mother-in-law is a terrible force.