З життя
Мій несподіваний супутник: Вперше заміж у 55
Мій пізній чоловік… Перший раз заміж у 55 років… Уже минуло п’ять років від нашого весілля… Мені зараз 60, а чоловікові — 65. Немає нічого дивного в тому, що я вийшла заміж у 55 років. У наші дні всяке трапляється. Дивно те, що це — мій перший шлюб і перший шлюб мого чоловіка. І уявіть, я ніколи не збиралася виходити заміж! Ще в молодості, коли мені ще не було й двадцяти, мене покинув хлопець, якого я дуже кохала. Звали його Слава. Покинув на п’ятому місяці вагітності. Спершу, Господи прости, я хотіла покінчити з життям, але згодом зібралася з думками і поклялася, що ніколи не вийду заміж. Я не хотіла, щоб поруч зі мною був ще один негідник, який втече при першій-ліпшій нагоді. І я дотримала слово. Виросла і вийшла заміж моя дочка, з’явилися онуки, а я, як вперта ослиця, жила одиноким життям. І не можна сказати, що чоловіки не освідчувалися. Ще й скільки! Але характер у мене впертий: якщо щось задумала — обов’язково виконаю. Проте життя самотньої жінки зробило з мене позбавлену жіночої привабливості, грубувату бабу. Однак доля — непередбачувана “пані”. І я хочу розповісти, як цей чоловік врешті-решт зміг “потягнути” мене під вінець… Коли я пішла на пенсію, то, як і всі пенсіонери, вирішила зайнятися городом. Від батьків мені дістався невеликий дачний будиночок із ділянкою землі. Діставалася я туди електричкою. Їхати треба було трохи більше години, тому я брала журнал з кросвордами — і час пролітав швидко. Одного разу на одній із зупинок до мене підсіли чоловік із жінкою (очевидно, подружжя) і маленький на вигляд старший чоловік. Спочатку всі мовчали. Потім я почула тихий голос сусідки. — Слава, ну, поїхали до дітей, допоможемо, — несміливо просила жінка. — Ти ж батько… Але дзвін вагонів заглушив громовий голос її чоловіка. — Ти що, дурна, хочеш, щоб я на колінах повз перед цими дебілами? Далі полився такий звірячий лексикон на адресу дружини і дітей, що я мимоволі подивилася на своїх сусідів. Мої очі зупинилися на огидному обличчі крикуна — я завмерла. Це був Слава! Той самий Слава, який залишив мене вагітною багато років тому! Він зовсім не змінився, лише риси обличчя зморщились через вік і злість. Він був таким самим великим, як і в молодості. Слава, звичайно, мене не впізнав, але, упіймавши мій погляд, істерично вигукнув: — А ти чого витріщилася! Відверни очі, а то наб’ю! Я закам’яніла… Руки і ноги не слухалися: чи то від несподіванки, чи то від страху. І тоді сталося щось дивовижне. Маленький старший чоловік, що сидів навпроти, рішуче встав між мною і Славою, і твердим упевненим голосом сказав: — Якщо ти не перестанеш лаяти жінок, матимеш справу зі мною. Чоловік, що так говорить із жінками, для мене — сміття. Я тебе скручу в ріг! У мене серце пішло в п’яти! Який “ріг”?! Та Слава його пальцем роздавить! Я вже була готова захищати свого заступника, як раптом Слава затих, втягував плечі в себе й щось нерозбірливо бурмотів. І тоді я зрозуміла, що цей “герой-крикун” тільки перед жінками силу показує. А перед справжнім відважним чоловіком зразу пасує. І це через нього… (немає слів!) я все життя собі зіпсувала?! Сльози навернулися на очі. Все відбулося якось швидко, як в кіно, де тридцять років за хвилину промайнуло. Слава з дружиною вийшли через дві зупинки, і я заплакала… На душі було порожньо й бридко. — Навіть сльози не зіпсують ваше миле обличчя, — на мене з усмішкою дивився мій захисник. Тепер він не здавався мені “чоловічком з нігтьок”. Переді мною сидів мужній і хоробрий чоловік. Звали його Федір Борисович, військовий у відставці. Так я познайомилася зі своїм майбутнім “пізнім” чоловіком. І раптом зрозуміла, що вперше за довгі-довгі роки хочу вийти заміж, хочу відчувати себе коханою жінкою. Так і сталося. Ми з Федором дуже щасливі. Все-таки життя мудро все розставляє на свої місця. І неважливо, в якому ти віці. Бо навіть осінь життя може наповнитися коханням та щастям.
You’re Robbing My Son Blind—He Can’t Even Afford a Light Bulb! On Sunday morning, I was curled up on the sofa with a blanket while my husband drove over to his mother’s to “change some light bulbs.” But of course, the real reason for summoning her darling boy was something else entirely: “Son, have you forgotten it’s Igor’s birthday today?” My husband’s the generous type—his salary barely lasts a week. Thankfully, he still gives me cash for the bills and groceries, but the rest? He blows it all on new video games and whatever gadgets go with them. I don’t mind; better my man enjoys his hobbies than squanders his time (and money) in pubs or nightclubs. Besides, I once read that the first forty years of childhood are the hardest for any man. I’m not telling you this for sympathy, just so you understand why my husband always has empty pockets. I have no such problem—even manage to save. I often lend him money in emergencies, but when it’s for his mum, niece, or sister, I always say no. Naturally, I remembered Igor’s birthday. Last week, I bought his present myself. Before my husband set off, I handed it over and settled down to watch a film. I didn’t go—the mutual animosity between me and my in-laws made sure of that. They think I don’t love him, accuse me of being mean because I refuse to fund their expenses or mind my sister-in-law’s kids. Once, I watched them for an hour, but they picked them up half a day late, making me miss work—when I dared complain, his mum and sister called me shameless and rude. After that, any requests to babysit were met with a firm “no.” Didn’t bother me if my husband watched the kids—he enjoys their company. Not long after my husband left, he returned—with the whole family in tow, nieces and all. His mum barged in, coat still on, and declared: “We’ve decided that, for Igor’s birthday, he’ll get the tablet he wanted—two grand it cost. You owe me a thousand pounds for your share. Pay up.” I might have bought the lad a tablet—but nothing that expensive. Obviously, I refused to hand over any cash. That’s when my husband started guilt-tripping me for being stingy. I turned on the laptop and called Igor over. In five minutes, we picked and ordered a gadget he really wanted—job done. Thrilled, Igor dashed off to his mum, who’d been sulking in the hallway. My sister-in-law always had sticky fingers—nothing in our house was safe. My mother-in-law, meanwhile, ignored my thoughtful gesture and exploded with indignation: “No one asked for your help. You were meant to give money! You’re with my son, and he’s always skint, can’t even buy a lightbulb. Hand me a thousand pounds now—you know full well that money belongs to my boy!” She reached for my handbag on the nightstand. I glared at my husband and hissed, “You’ve got three minutes to get them out of here.” In less than three minutes, he’d grabbed his mother and chucked her and the lot of them out the door. So, yes, I’d rather my husband waste his wages on games than have his mother snatch every penny. At least he spends it on things that make him happy, not on those freeloaders. Sometimes, I genuinely think I’d have been better off marrying an orphan!
Youre robbing my son, he cant even afford a lightbulb. One Sunday morning, I was curled up under a blanket...
“I Don’t Want Any Other Daughter-in-Law—Do Whatever You Like!” said the Mother to Her Son Mark was finishing uni and thought it was the perfect time to marry his first love from sixth form, Maddie! Maddie wasn’t just pretty; she was smart and kind, writing her master’s dissertation at the time. The young couple planned to tie the knot as soon as she finished her degree. Mark decided to tell his mum about the wedding, but she wasn’t thrilled. His mother insisted he either marry Amanda from next door—or no one at all. Then she asked what mattered more: his career or love? Mark’s mum dreamed of her son becoming a true success story. Amanda was from a well-off family and had fancied Mark for ages, but he only had eyes for Maddie, whose family background wasn’t ideal. Maddie’s mum had a bad reputation… What would the neighbours say? “I don’t need any other daughter-in-law. Do as you wish!” his mum told him. Mark tried for ages to change his mum’s mind, but she wouldn’t budge. Finally, she said she’d disown him if he married Maddie. Mark lost his nerve. He kept seeing Maddie for six more months, but their relationship slowly fizzled out. Eventually, he married Amanda. She truly loved him, but there was no big wedding—Mark didn’t want Maddie to see any wedding photos. With Amanda’s wealthy background, he moved into her parents’ massive house, and they even helped his career. But true happiness never came. Mark didn’t want kids. When Amanda realised she couldn’t change his mind, she filed for divorce herself. By then, Mark was forty and Amanda thirty-eight. Amanda remarried, had a child and finally found real happiness. Mark always dreamed of marrying Maddie, tried to find her, but she seemed to have vanished. Then he learned Maddie was gone—after their break-up she’d married the first man she met, who turned out to be violent. He beat her to death. After that, Mark ended up living alone in his parents’ old flat, drinking himself to death, staring at Maddie’s photo and never forgiving his mother.
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