Vovochka comes running home to the kitchen. Mommy is cooking his lunch there. He cheerfully shouts to her: “Mommy, mommy… I love Ninochka from the first floor!”
– Oh, Vovochka
– don’t love Ninochka from the first floor. Her glass is already broken. He goes into the hall upset. There the grandmother is knitting in a rocking chair and watching TV.
– Grandma, and grandma… I love Ninochka from the first floor!
– Oh, what are you Vovochka, my dear grandson… Don’t love this bitch! Her glass is already broken… He goes to the bedroom almost in tears. There the father lies on the bed and reads the newspaper.
– Dad, and dad… I love Ninochka from the first floor…
– Well, love yourself to your health…
– Yeah
– but my mother and woman tell me not to love her. Like, her glass is already broken.
– Oh, Vovochka, don’t listen to them. When I married your mother, not only was her glass broken, but the frame was already wobbly.
