One day... Dad and I, left home alone...

Memories from childhood that stay with us, forever...

One day, Dad and I were left home alone. Mum went to Grandma's for two whole weeks and there was freedom...
Don't do the dishes!
No need to change clothes after the street!
Braid the braid every morning - don't!
Touching street cats and dogs is OK!
Watching football with Diego Maradona at two in the morning is possible!
The anarchy lasted a week. And then, the money ran out. Payday was still three days away.
Then we went to a collection point to drop off the bottles.

No money was given at the kiosk where the containers were taken, but you could take something from the goods. "Take your pick!" - Dad waved his hand generously.
I already knew how to count money.
- Let's buy nine... or no, that makes ten bottles! - of beer and lemonade!
- Are you that thirsty or something? - Dad laughed.
- Noooo! It's just that when we run out of money again, there will be bottles to hand in later!
Father blushed.
Then he turned green.
He dragged me home and returned two hours later, laden with bags of lemonade, crisps, chocolate wafers, sweets, ice cream and other uninteresting stuff.

I was munching, tasting one sweet after the other and watching the legendary Argentina-England match. I could hear my dad muttering: "As long as I'm alive, I'll make sure you don't turn in any more bottles...
Before I met Mummy at the airport, Daddy and I cleaned the house together. And for the first time in six months, Dad braided my braid. He accidentally tangled the buttons of my dress in it, though.
My intelligent mother never swore, but when she cut off the wisps of hair stuck in the buttons of her dress, she couldn't stand it and swore.
And we began to live our lives as before: porridge for breakfast, lemonade as a reward, cartoons at the weekends.

So time flies... Dad...

And in just two more weeks, I'll be older than you forever.
I have your eyes and the beautician is swearing, can you imagine?
And a love of tea, I don't like coffee at all.
And I never learned how to braid my hair, Dad, but I don't have to now, I'm an adult, Dad, I have a haircut.
I never became the serious woman my mother saw me as. And Maradona turned out to be a drug addict and a pimp, but that didn't matter, did it, Dad?
Something else in life is important, Dad, something else. I don't know yet, I'm still learning.
I'm living slowly. I don't need anything.
And in just two more weeks, I'll be older than you forever.
It's all so strange, dad…

Diana Azizova