For some reason, it is believed that children love to spend time in children's rooms. These co

For some reason, it is believed that children love to spend time in children's rooms. These rooms are located, as a rule, in large stores and exist so that parents can, by isolating their child there for an hour and a half, organize a holiday for both him and themselves.
It is also believed that in children's rooms, children, for example, really like to jump in pools without water with plastic balls. Sometimes parents even line up, holding their children tightly by the hands so that, God forbid, they don’t run away and enjoy life at all costs.
I am, of course, no exception. There are no exceptions, if you look at them. If a father does not stand in line with his child at the ball pit, this does not mean that he is an exception. He simply sincerely believes that it is much more interesting for a child to do twenty-one exercises according to the method of Tibetan monks or wash his father’s car with shampoo.
So, it means that my three-year-old daughter Masha and I, having stood in line for the pool with plastic balls along with my friend and his three-year-old daughter Alisa, for the first time, with relief, left the little one to enjoy life in this pool. My attempt to do this a month earlier at the ice sports palace ended with the fact that before she even had time to enter such a pool and touch the ball, she received a heel in the chest from one smart kid, with whom I later had a serious conversation.
Leaving the children in the pool, we went to the cafe. At this time, our wives were doing their usual business. Somehow everything suddenly worked out this way.
About ten minutes later a girl from this pool called me and asked me to come. Before that, when she took the phone from me, she warned me that this was how it was supposed to be, and that they would call only in exceptional cases. This means that an exceptional case has already arrived.
When we ran to the pool, we found our children alive. This in itself was a great and even, one might say, unexpected joy. The children stood on plastic balls and looked at us carefully, without a shadow of sympathy, from behind an iron mesh.
- We lost their socks! — the girl who called me said plaintively. “We can’t find it anywhere.”
—Have you tried asking them?
- Of course, we tried.
- And what?
- Nothing! They're laughing at me!
“Masha,” I asked, “well, where are your socks?”
She, of course, immediately started laughing loudly at me. She was really looking forward to this question.
“Alice,” my friend asked, “please bring me some socks.”
These words simply sent Alice into hysterics. Only three-year-old children can laugh so sincerely.
“Please forgive me,” said the girl, “but our children cannot be here without socks.”
“Masha, let’s go,” I said.
- And the socks? - the children asked in unison with the girl.
In general, I went there to get these socks. It was terrible. Not to mention that I still have that ringing childish laughter that accompanied my search in my ears. It was also damn difficult - climbing on these balls, digging into them... Some kind of madness. And I didn't find any socks.
And then my friend climbed into the pool. And he is a guy, thank God, two meters tall. In general, maybe his arms are longer, but in about ten minutes he found all four socks.
When we were already leaving this hellish pool, for educational purposes I drew my daughter’s attention to one little boy.
“You see,” I said to Masha, “what an interesting and good boy is standing on the balls over there, by the window.” He doesn't hide his socks from anyone.
“Dad,” the girl told me, “listen to what he says!”
- Is he saying something? - I was surprised.
- Certainly! He talks all the time. I'm afraid of him.
I approached the boy. He looked about five years old. He really was slowly talking to himself. I listened.
“Yesterday there was snow,” the boy said thoughtfully. “Today it’s raining.” Russia is missing.
I looked at my daughter with gratitude. No, it’s better if she hides her socks from me.

Magazine "Kommersant Weekend" No. 64 dated 04/09/2004, p. 60

Authors:

Andrey Kolesnikov

Fathers with Andrei Kolesnikov