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Albina was getting ready to go to work and was repeating to her husband for the same time:
"Watch out, no one should touch what's in the refrigerator." All that is there is for my birthday, which, by the way, is tomorrow. Don't forget that this is all for my friends.
"Yes, I remember," Artem as he climbed. "Who's going to touch all this, I'm alone at home."
"Your mother," replied Albina, turning on the threshold. "She likes to come when I'm not here and nibble all that is most delicious in our refrigerator."
Instead of replying, Artem looked up at the sky and made a grimace, showing his wife that she was worried about nothing.
But Albina was right to worry. Margarita Ivanovna had a bad habit: she always checked her children's refrigerator and ate whatever she liked.
She did this only when her daughter-in-law was not there and her son was too shy to reprimand her.
"You have understood, haven't you?" asked Albina, on the way out. "The red caviar, the salmon, the cake, all this is for the birthday."
"Why repeat a hundred times?" "Artem indignant." "I understood at once."
After these words, Albina breathed relief, hoping that her husband would remember her instructions and defend the refrigerator against Margarita Ivanovna.
In the evening, on their way home from work, Albina immediately rushed to the refrigerator.
However, as soon as she opened it, a loud cry of a woman rang out in the apartment.
"I told you not to touch anything," cried Albina furious. "You don't listen to what I'm saying?"
Artem, alarmed by his wife's cries, ran into the room. He stopped in the frame of the door and looked at her, surprised.
Why were my party dishes touched, and why is the cake cut into pieces and half-around? "I told you," said Albina, almost in tears.
Artem swallowed his saliva and, pale, looked at his angry wife:
"I haven't touched anything.
"Then who touched?" insisted Albina, folded arms. "It was again Margarita Ivanovna who came?"
"Well, perhaps she has tried," said Artem, embarrassed, looking away.
"She tried, huh?" repeated Albina, mocking. "And during that time, where were you?"
"I was at home, where do you want me to be?" "I was probably watching TV," replied Artem, shrugging his shoulders, confused.
"You're no good at anything, really." Why didn't you tell her not to touch anything in the refrigerator, that it's all for my birthday? - scrida Albina, trying to quell his anger.
She was ready to jump on him and give him a good lesson so as not to have kept her promise.
"No, I told her," tried to defend herself, "Perhaps she has just forgotten.
"Have she forgotten?" 'What a story,' said Albina, disdainfully, taking her head.
"It's not that bad, after all." I could put that on the table like this," murmured Artem, almost inaudible.
On the table? Eating leftovers? Do you think it's not a problem serving guests a stuffed salmon from which three pieces are missing? "Or a cake is missing a quarter of it?" asked Albina, almost sobbing.
But the woman understood that tears wouldn't solve anything, so she blew and held out her hand:
Give me your card.
"Why?" Artem looked at his wife, surprised.
"Because I go to the store to buy the goods," said Albina. "I might call your mother and ask her to pay." Do you want us to do that?
Artem frowned and went into the hall. He returned a few minutes later.
"Look," said Artem, handing over the card to his wife.
Ten minutes later, Albina walked a certain step to the shop where she had bought the goods.
Each purchase made with the card sent a notification to Artem, which was increasingly frustrated by the amounts spent by his wife.
When he heard Albina return, he emerged from the play and threw, furious:
"Why is it so expensive?" You spent a quarter of my salary shopping.
"Yes, this time I spent twelve thousand, and the last time only seven," replied Albina without emotion. "The first time I had a 50% discount, and this time everything was at full price." "Tell you and your mother," she added, handing over the bank card to her husband.
Artem remained silent, looking at his wife with a guilty air. In his head, he wondered how he could have allowed such a situation to happen.
He knew Albina was right – he should have been firmer with his mother.
Moreover, he had lied to his wife when he told him that he had not seen Margarita Ivanovna nibbling in the refrigerator.
"Sorry," said Artem. "I really couldn't stop him." It's just... you know, it's my mother...
Albina sighed, feeling that her anger was gradually turning into fatigue.
continued on next page
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