In this story about my husband’s acquaintance with my parents there is no deep philosophical thought.

It’s just my memory of the trial through which every man decides that it’s time. With only one difference, that Lecha at the time absolutely did not decide that it was time for him, that brought to the encounter the element of some tragedy and fatality. For me...

So then.

I most often liked the guys serious and educated, I, in turn, liked the scatterers and hooligans.

The constant hustles in our apartment in the absence of my parents, a playthrough in the underground jazz clubs with a door without a sticker, which opened only "for their own" at a certain knock on the "Abbuka Morse" system, and eating river transportation for the whole night with loading tons of champagne on it (all this is now at every corner, and in the early 90s - exclusive) were much more interesting for me at that age than dinner in the altitude on Koteljnická with the diplomatic family of my smart, reliable and decent, but immensely boring in his "righteousness" friend of Sasha, during which his mother to my, I have to admit, a completely sincere compliment "Elizabeth Arvetavaldina, to you today a very beautiful collar", replied:

“Here, Danetka, you’ll marry Sashenka and I’ll give you it.

When I thought that a beautiful, but 2-kilogram necklace with the roadside neck of Elizabeth Arnoldovna with a cover of a century-old oak was rolling over my chicken neck, I was overwhelmed by grief.

Not to mention the fact that the reasons for marriage with Sascha, who, I know, was in love with me, but was perceived by me rather as a "girlfriend", I did not give in principle.

In short, despite the fact that I was always an outstanding, an athlete, an old man, played piano and guitar, studied at a prestigious university and could not hit the dirt in the face in intellectual conversations with the friends of my parents, and also always made a very positive impression on all the moms and dads of my friends and friends, this did not save me, and one day my dad said succinctly:

“If I see at least one of your clowns in our house again, I’ll throw it out of our balcony.

Daddy, in his life (in parallel with his work) the champion of Moscow in boxing (in connection with which in our hallway guests always joyfully welcomed the boxing pearls hanging on the ceiling, which Daddy continued to periodically knock to maintain physical shape), words to the wind did not throw, so our apartment became a taboo for all men, including, for every case, a friend Sasha.

My husband and I met at the disco. He was a seriously educated hooligan. Having graduated with a gold medal border school, in connection with which his name is perpetuated on a marble board in the parade hall of this worthy military institution, and being at the time already a starley and a very erudite guy, he was at the same time a shabby ballaguer without complexes, who knew how to stand for himself and be with his mind and humor in the center of any company.

In short, I was in love. There was no talk about marriage at the time. We lived for one day and didn’t think about what would happen next. We meet and meet.

That memorable evening, Leha accompanied me to the entrance. My mother was aware of the presence of some Lehi, but I did not try to introduce him to my parents. We approached my house, but I didn’t want to break up and I called home from the telephone machine.

Mom, I’m near the entrance. We’ll talk for another half an hour and I’ll go home.

Get up to us.

and Maam.

I said, go up to us.

Mom, is there Dad?

Daddy will not object. I want to see what the body is. If you don’t get up and you don’t show me it, you’ll be sitting at home tomorrow.

The blackmailer.

and yes.

My mom put the phone. I took a breath and looked down at Leish.

Do not worry. I’m strong and, if anything, I’ll be able to hold onto the balcony, even if your daddy is dancing a swing on my fingers.

After presenting this wonderful painting in all the colors and breathing even stronger, I opened the entrance door with a key.

Have you ever been waiting for the problem from one side and it comes from the other? My parents came from the side I expected them from.

When you bring someone to your home for the first time, you always want to make a good impression not only of the person you brought, but also of those to whom you brought him.

I’ve never had a reason to worry here because my parents are educated, intelligent, educated and very tactical people (even in spite of threats).

But when we got out of the elevator on our floor, I immediately realized that “it’s not all quiet in the Danish kingdom.” Along the elevator, I heard Joe Dassin’s scream. People of my age and older know that the French did not grieve in their songs. But it turns out, with Daddy’s favorite vinyl record player (something foreign super cool and that Daddy was very proud of) when it was turned on to the full power of two columns, the French oral ogo-go like. I did not expect this from my parents at home.

My concerns about the non-standardity of the situation was confirmed by the opened door mother, who stood before us in all her glory: in a long black evening dress... barefoot... And for some reason with a hammer in her hands...

In the head immediately came the dirty thought that Lechina's fingers, holding behind the balcony, may and will withstand the sling, but here is the hammer.

Come in, come in, joyfully waving with a hammer, mumAn cried out, shouting out the shouts of Joe Dassin. - And Irocka gave us a carpet here, we hanged it in your room now!

And loudly blinked.

I shut my eyes. So I could not see the expression of the face of Alexis who accompanied me. I did not want.

When my pupils from focusing into the ceiling began to return to their more familiar focus - forward into the horizon, as they teach in the motor school - on this very horizon, "suddenly from my mom from the bathroom" in MY shirt (variant "mini") in the literal sense of "blind and chrome" sailed out our neighbor on the staircase cage, the local alkas-intellectual and father's interlocutor on topics of Gillarovsky, Solzhenitsyn and Vysotsky Valerich.

Pushing the blush (as it turned out later, Valerich threw a bottle of red wine on himself when he tried to demonstrate that he could hold it on his head and at the same time pour the "blush" and the heart-sick mother gave him MY coat until his things dried after instant washing in the bathroom), he approached Alexei and, grabbing his hand, with pathos and drama said:

Leave hope everyone who comes here!

And theatrically, with one hand, he clutched on a boxer pear hanging from the ceiling, which did not use to deviate under his weight and turn Valerich to the floor.

"It's not daddy," I quietly and condemned myself, although I began to doubt whether I should not give alkasha Valerich for my daddy, or suddenly daddy will be even worse.

Looking into the living room, where the sounds of music were spread, I saw a father who, in the cowards and the maid of the Dnieper football team, whose official sponsor was the Central Committee of the CPSU, and for some reason only in one ghetto (the second hanged on the geranium), under the very romantic composition of the "Elysée Fields" with a gallop, from one end of the living room to the other, moved in the frame with my mom's friend Irochka. Having seen that someone else appeared in the hall with me, Daddy, saying "pardon" to the whispering Iroche, came out to us.

Stirring Alexei from his feet to his head with a dark look, the father silently turned and took a decisive step back to the living room. Remembering that there is one of the balconies in it, we all froze.

Finally, Valerich, who got up from the floor, who managed to do this not the first time, for some reason took a hammer from a frozen mom and hid it behind his back.

Ten seconds later, he returned, holding a bottle of cognac in one hand, and in the second two huge cups of horns from a mountain goat, which he received in Georgia. He pushed the two horns into his mother’s hand, opened the bottle and poured half of it into one horn, and the rest into the other. Then, giving the empty bottle to Irochka, who went out into the hall, he took the horns and one of them stretched Lehe, who has not yet removed the jacket.

“Drink,” said the father horribly. to the bottom.

Thank God the young starley who passed the military school was not to frighten him, and Lech, less doubting, put his whole horn into his throat under the close eye of my father. to the end. Yes is. The Cognac...

My father did the same with his portion.

You can pass. Welcome to our house!

To say that I was terrified by my parents was to say nothing.

“Let’s go, I’ll show you my room,” I told Leche. I very much hoped that at least my room, on the walls of which there were numerous shelves with books that I read, the collection of gnomes and my childhood photographs in the frames would make a favorable impression on him.

But it was not there. On the wall, above my bed, was the gift of Irocka, which had just been drawn to her. A lion was carved on the carpet. And the carpet was somehow bent up with my legs and under a 20-degree slope, causing the lion to come down on my back in the direction of my pillow. Just like Valery.

“Gy-gyi,” Leha whispered, apparently gradually after half a bottle of cognac drunk on an empty stomach, entering the same wave with my parents. Your parents have a very non-trivial view of images.

Let us go! I said it fiercely and we joined the others.

I will not give any further details of this evening. I go to the main. Another composition was played and my mother, looking at Alexei, said a terrible thing:

“Well, Zeta, would you invite me to dance?

While they were dancing, I sat and looked at Loh as if it were the last time. I was sure that after that a normal man would escape.

and far away. Maybe even abroad.

I sat down and cried that my parents had embarrassed me. Now he thinks my family is Alkashi. and obsessive. Carrying Lesh then to the door and hearing him say, "Let's go tomorrow at 7 at the usual place," I already imagined in painting how I would come, and there he is not.

In the morning I ran into the kitchen, where my mother and Irocka sat at the table, both with wet towels on the forehead, and in turn baked water from the throat of a three-litre bowl. Although in the kitchen, they always did this, using the pot and the glasses that stood next to it.

“Yes, mom,” I said without saying “good morning.” Because of you, I lost such a man. If he does not come today, it will be on your conscience!

What did I do that? My mother was upset by my elevated voice.

You called him a son-in-law!

It cannot be so! To me? The first time I saw a man? You just want to argue with me.

There was no such! I supported her. I would definitely remember. I always remember everything.

“Well, you gave it yesterday! He laughed at the man who was entering the kitchen at the moment.

What is?

Why did you call him a son yesterday? After all, he’ll run away... And sadly... An intelligent guy... I liked it.

I jumped out of the kitchen, knocking loudly at the door.

By 7 p.m. I was driving to the meeting place in a condemned mood. Without expecting to see anything good, I walked out of the turn and saw... Lechu, who stood, wrapped himself in the parapet, looked at me and smiled.

Hello to you! I said to go out. Forget everything you saw and heard yesterday. I understood? I am not going to marry you! Here is... pf...

He laughed loudly, hugged me and said:

You know, your father has a great cognac. Maybe I’ll be happy to visit your parents...even if you’re against it.

That is how my mother was right. As always.

These two horns are now in our home. Leha said it is now a family tradition. So, our daughter’s brides, get trained.

(C) Tatiana Komova @snob