Цiкаво
Кіт, якому нічого не забороняли!
Це історія про “кота-царя”, що жив у сусідній квартирі!
Живе у моєї дівчини величезний, товстий сіро-рудий кіт. Особа царствена і важлива. Якщо чесно, я вперше спостерігав таке ставлення до кота, яке було заведено в їхній родині.
Вона ж складалася з бабусі з дідусем, мами і її дочки, яка і була моєю дівчиною. Коту було дозволено абсолютно все, і часом ця вседозволеність досягала певної стадії маразму.
Якщо, наприклад, котик заснув розтягнувшись на дивані, то всі члени сім’ї розташовувалися, де завгодно, лише б не турбувати кота.
Те саме було, якщо котик розташовувався в кріслі. В туалет котик сам не ходив, бо не царська це справа. Котика по першому поклику носила до вбиральні бабуся. Сама ж вона скаржилася на хронічні болі в спині, що втім не завадило їй служити для котика чимось на зразок драбини. Наприклад, котик сидить біля серванта і тоненько так повискує, як порося.
Всі його спроби нявкати, до слова, ніяк не були схожі за звучанням на канонічне котяче – мяу. Ну так от, сидить котик біля серванта і волає. На поклик біжить бабуля, на ходу примовляючи:
– Боренька! Дитинко моя, на сервантик хочеш ?!
Боренька, не звертаючи уваги на бабусю, продовжував гіпнотизувати сервант. Бабуся, мабуть, вже не перший раз проробляючи цю процедуру, зі знанням справи спирається на сервант, злегка пригинаючись. Боренька неквапливо піднімається по ній на сервант і з поважним виглядом розлягається нагорі.
Коли ж Бореньці набридає там лежати, він знову починає кликати підданих, і процедура повторюється в зворотному порядку. Ще мене бентежив той факт, що якщо котисько займав ліжко, то спати члени сім’ї лягали не розстилаючи останнє, а навколо кота.
Я в цілому кошатників поважаю, але ось ця особина чомусь викликала щось на зразок класової ненависті. І потроху-потроху, поки ніхто не бачив, я проводив з Боренькою виховно-роз’яснювальні роботи. Згодом кіт став вести себе краще, що не дуже сподобалося членам сім’ї. Тоді я остаточно усвідомив, що кота-тирана вони виховали самі.
Якщо чесно, кота шкода. Тварина не винна, що його таким зробили. А Борьці, до речі, подобалося навіть, що з ним поводяться як з рівним, а не як з кумиром. Це по коту було видно. Але на жаль, зробити з нього толкового кота мені так і не дали.
Так як незабаром наші шляхи з його господинею розійшлися.
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“I Had to Get a Separate Fridge So Mum Would Stop Taking My Shopping” — says Anna. “It’s a ridiculous situation, but there’s no other way. I’m not against selling the flat and sharing the money, but she refuses”. Anna recently turned 24. She’s earned her university degree and found work, but hasn’t settled down yet. Living in her own home isn’t easy. Anna owns half of the flat. It used to belong to her father. She and her mother inherited equal shares when Anna was 14. Ten years ago, things were tough for the family—they lost their breadwinner. Anna’s mum quit her job when Anna was small, deciding against maternity leave because her husband earned well and they were comfortable. She focused on being a homemaker. After Anna’s father died, her mother sobbed, “Who’s going to hire a forty-year-old like me now? What, as a cleaner?” Anna continues: “I was getting a family pension, but Mum couldn’t resist trips to the salon and shopping, even though we were barely scraping by. Her brother helped at first, but then he’d had enough. My uncle told Ali (my mum) she’d have to find work. He has his own kids — he can’t support everyone. After about a year, Ali brought a new man home. His name was Derek. She announced he’d be living with us. Mum tried to solve the money problem by getting married again. Derek did earn good money, but he didn’t get along with me at all. Derek would say: ‘All you do is eat. You’d be better off with a load of laundry or cleaning. Why do you have to do homework? University? Forget it—you should work instead. Or do you think I’ll just keep feeding you?’ I couldn’t say anything. Yes, I was getting a pension, but Mum had control of the money. She never defended me from my stepdad. She was afraid of losing her breadwinner. ‘How will we cope without him?’ she asked me. ‘Don’t argue so much, just do what he says. He provides for the family.’ I made it to university and found a job. Even so, Derek thought of me as another mouth to feed and was always counting what he spent on me. “Six months after I started work, I could afford my own fridge,” Anna says. “I put it in my bedroom because Derek locked the kitchen fridge.” ‘You’ve got a job now? Feed yourself,’ Derek said. Ali fell silent again. Even when Derek showed me the utility bills and demanded I pay for everything he’d ever spent on me. Eventually, Derek lost his job. He and Mum began raiding my fridge. The bills all landed on me. At first, I paid. But Derek sat around unemployed for nearly a year. I’d had enough, so I put a padlock on my fridge. Of course, Mum objected, claiming Derek had kept us fed all this time. I said, ‘Help me out, if you want. I’m not the first one sharing everything in this house. Go get a job.’ Derek recently moved out. Mum’s had enough of a man who brings in no money. But I’m still not taking the padlock off my fridge. I believe Mum should work too. What do you think—is she right?
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You’re the Big Brother, So You Must Help Your Little Sister—You’ve Got Two Flats, Give One to Your Sister! Not long ago, we celebrated my sister-in-law’s birthday. Alina has never had any friendly feelings towards me, and I’ve always felt the same about her. The celebration brought together all our relatives: grandparents, nephews, and of course the birthday girl. Each relative felt obliged to congratulate my husband on his sister’s birthday, while also admiring his generosity. My husband and I graciously accepted the congratulations, but couldn’t grasp what was happening. In my hand was an envelope containing £100 as a present. I thought it was a decent gift for the occasion, though hardly a display of extraordinary generosity. Everything became clear when my mother-in-law began her birthday speech for Alina. “Mark,” she said, “it’s your sister’s birthday today. She’s still single and without a partner, so as her older brother you should look after her and guarantee her security. Now that you own two flats, you’ll give one to Alina.” The room burst into applause while I nearly fell off my chair at the cheekiness of it all. But it didn’t end there. “Brother, make sure you give me the one in the new build! So, when can I move in?” Alina pressed, and I decided it was time for some clarification. My husband and I actually have two flats. One I inherited from my grandmother; we did a bit of redecorating and now rent it out. The money from that pays the mortgage for our flat in the new building—where we actually live. My husband has no rights to the flat I inherited; I’ve always planned to pass it on to our child—my sister-in-law isn’t even in the picture. “Forget it, the rented flat is mine and the one you’re dreaming about is our home.” “Child, you’re quite mistaken. You’re my son’s wife, so all your assets are jointly owned and should be managed by your husband,” my mother-in-law chimed in. “I have no issue with you helping, but not with my assets!” I said. “Mark, do you have anything to add?” “Darling, you and I will earn more money and buy another flat. Let’s just give this one to Alina; it’s her birthday today.” “Are you serious?” I asked, astonished. “If it ever comes to that, you can give her half of our flat after we file for divorce!” “Aren’t you ashamed to speak to your husband like that? If you want a divorce, you’ll get one! Son, pack your things and come home. And you—you’re vile and greedy!” my mother-in-law snapped. After that, I left that crazy house. I wasn’t going to stick around with people who think they have the right to dispose of my property.
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