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Стукіт у двері щоранку 8 березня: наші дитячі спогади про з сестрою.

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Коли ми з сестрою були маленькими, кожного ранку 8 березня починалося зі стуку в двері і питання: «Дамочки, ви вже одягнені? Можна до вас зайти?»

Дівчатка в кольорових піжамках кричали у відповідь, що вони вже точно одягнені, тому швидше заходьте. Тим більше, ми знаємо, що ви там щось приховали для нас!

У кімнату заходив тато з двома букетами квітів і двома однаковими коробками, у яких були ляльки.

Тато кілька разів намагався подарувати нам різні подарунки, але швидко зрозумів, що це невдале рішення: старшій доньці (тобто мені) здавалося, що її обділили, а у Марічки лялька краща, більша і привабливіша, а молодшій (це Марічка) завжди здавалося, що її не люблять і вибирають найменші ляльки, щоб підкреслити її дитячий вік.

Переживши одну нашу потужну і подвійну жіночу істерику, тато передчасно посивів і відтоді почав дарувати лише однакові подарунки.

І ми з Марічкою завжди були переконані: 8 березня — це такий день, коли Головний Чоловік у Світі приходить до тебе зранку з квітами і коробками, і з чимось вітає.

Що ж це за свято таке 8 березня — це неважливо. Для нас це був день, коли приходив Головний Чоловік з Квітами і Подарунками.

На той час тато був у нас єдиним чоловіком у житті (дідуся не рахуємо — він не чоловік, а старенький дідусь, як ви не розумієте?). Єдиний і Головний. Інших не було.

А потім минули роки.

І в мене, і у Марічки з’явилися інші Головні Чоловіки, які вранці 8 березня приносили нам квіти і подарунки. Але якось завжди виходило, що ми поспішали надавати їм цей титул. Не особливо вони, виявлялися чоловіками. А тим паче, не Головними.

Титул знову повертався до нашого тата. Тато його носив гордо, звично і не змінював традицій з однаковими коробочками. Водночас у тих коробках вже могли бути різні подарунки, але самі коробки, все ж таки завжди однакові!

Потім у нас з Марічкою з’явилися сини. Єдині. По одному в кожної. Маленькі Головні Чоловіки. І поки вони росли, наш тато все ще виконував свої обов’язки на 8 березня. Бо — коли ж йому зміну-то знайдуть? А дочки чекають своїх квітів і коробочок.

Мій син виріс якось дуже швидко. І я не встигла навіть помітити: а коли ж це сталося, що він став чий-то ще Головним Чоловіком? І зранку 8 березня я отримую від нього тільки телефонний дзвінок: «Мамочко, зі святом тебе! Не хвилюйся, я у Марічки, повернусь у неділю».

Але!

Але цей дзвінок відбувається лише після дзвінка тата і питання: «Моя дамо, ти одягнена? До візитів готова?»

…У житті кожної жінки мають бути Чоловіки. Справжні. З великої літери. Чоловіки, сини, брати… Але Найголовнішим може бути тільки хтось один. Не обов’язково тато. Не у всіх же є тати. І брати. І сини. Але у кожної є хтось Найголовніший.

Той, з кого роками і десятиліттями починається ранок 8 березня.

У нас з Марічкою — це наш тато. Для якого ми з народження залишаємося Його Дамами.

Адже найголовніше для жінки — знати, що її дуже люблять.

Зі святом всіх нас, кохані і кохаючі.

І дякуємо за цей день нашим Найголовнішим Чоловікам.

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