Three little pigs food

The Three Little Pigs

The story of The Three Little Pigs featured here has been adapted from different sources and from childhood memory. The primary sources are English Fairy Tales, retold by Flora Annie Steel (1922) with illustrations by L. Leslie Brooke from the 1904 version. This story is featured in our Favorite Fairy Tales and Children's Stories.

Once upon a time there was an old mother pig who had three little pigs and not enough food to feed them. So when they were old enough, she sent them out into the world to seek their fortunes.

The first little pig was very lazy. He didn't want to work at all and he built his house out of straw. The second little pig worked a little bit harder but he was somewhat lazy too and he built his house out of sticks. Then, they sang and danced and played together the rest of the day.

The third little pig worked hard all day and built his house with bricks. It was a sturdy house complete with a fine fireplace and chimney. It looked like it could withstand the strongest winds.

The next day, a wolf happened to pass by the lane where the three little pigs lived; and he saw the straw house, and he smelled the pig inside. He thought the pig would make a mighty fine meal and his mouth began to water.

So he knocked on the door and said:

 Little pig! Little pig! Let me in! Let me in!

But the little pig saw the wolf's big paws through the keyhole, so he answered back:

 No! No! No! Not by the hairs on my chinny chin chin!

Then the wolf showed his teeth and said:

 Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down.

So he huffed and he puffed and he blew the house down! The wolf opened his jaws very wide and bit down as hard as he could, but the first little pig escaped and ran away to hide with the second little pig.

The wolf continued down the lane and he passed by the second house made of sticks; and he saw the house, and he smelled the pigs inside, and his mouth began to water as he thought about the fine dinner they would make.

So he knocked on the door and said:



 Little pigs! Little pigs! Let me in! Let me in!

But the little pigs saw the wolf's pointy ears through the keyhole, so they answered back:

 No! No! No! Not by the hairs on our chinny chin chin!

So the wolf showed his teeth and said:

 Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down!

So he huffed and he puffed and he blew the house down! The wolf was greedy and he tried to catch both pigs at once, but he was too greedy and got neither! His big jaws clamped down on nothing but air and the two little pigs scrambled away as fast as their little hooves would carry them.

The wolf chased them down the lane and he almost caught them. But they made it to the brick house and slammed the door closed before the wolf could catch them. The three little pigs they were very frightened, they knew the wolf wanted to eat them. And that was very, very true. The wolf hadn't eaten all day and he had worked up a large appetite chasing the pigs around and now he could smell all three of them inside and he knew that the three little pigs would make a lovely feast.

So the wolf knocked on the door and said:

 Little pigs! Little pigs! Let me in! Let me in!

But the little pigs saw the wolf's narrow eyes through the keyhole, so they answered back:

 No! No! No! Not by the hairs on our chinny chin chin!

So the wolf showed his teeth and said:

 Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down.

Well! he huffed and he puffed. He puffed and he huffed. And he huffed, huffed, and he puffed, puffed; but he could not blow the house down. At last, he was so out of breath that he couldn't huff and he couldn't puff anymore. So he stopped to rest and thought a bit.

But this was too much. The wolf danced about with rage and swore he would come down the chimney and eat up the little pig for his supper. But while he was climbing on to the roof the little pig made up a blazing fire and put on a big pot full of water to boil. Then, just as the wolf was coming down the chimney, the little piggy pulled off the lid, and plop! in fell the wolf into the scalding water.

So the little piggy put on the cover again, boiled the wolf up, and the three little pigs ate him for supper.

If you enjoyed this story, you may be interested in our collection of Children's Stories or other titles from our library of Pre-K Read-Aloud Stories.

Three Little Pigs Jambon Sec, Sliced (3 oz) Delivery or Pickup Near Me

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About

Details

French recipe since 1975. All natural (No artificial ingredients. Minimally processed) French-style. No nitrites or nitrates added (except occurring naturally in sea salt). This specially dried French-style ham is tender, succulent and irresistible. Cured over 10 months to a unique recipe, this sliced dried ham is the perfect classic charcuterie treat. On board. In a sandwich. On the go. From our earliest days as a charcuterie shop in 1975 NYC, Three Little Pigs is creating more enjoyable, everyday moments through casual charcuterie that is as fun and easy to enjoy as it is delicious. Bon Appetit!

Ingredients

Pork Leg, Sea Salt.

Directions

Keep refrigerated.

Nutrition

Nutrition Facts

Serving Size 1.0 Ounce

Servings Per Container 3

Amount Per Serving
Calories 60

% Daily Value
- Total Fat 3. 5g5%daily value
- Total FatSaturated Fat 1.5g8%daily value
- Cholesterol 20mg7%daily value
- Sodium 520mg22%daily value
- Total Carbohydrate 0g0%daily value
- Total CarbohydrateDietary Fiber 0g0%daily value
- Total CarbohydrateSugars 0g
- Protein 7g

Percent Daily Values are based on a 2,000 calorie diet.

Details

Ingredients

Pork Leg, Sea Salt.

Directions

Keep refrigerated.

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Yes, Three Little Pigs Jambon Sec, Sliced is gluten-free.

Three Little Pigs Jambon Sec, Sliced has 60.0 calories.

Three Little Pigs Jambon Sec, Sliced has 0.0 carbs.

Three Little Pigs Jambon Sec, Sliced has 0.0 grams of sugar.

Three Little Pigs Jambon Sec, Sliced has 3.5 grams of fat.

Three Little Pigs Jambon Sec, Sliced has 520.0 grams of sodium.

Read online "Diet for three pigs", Daria Dontsova - LitRes

Chapter 1

Appetite comes with eating, especially if you are not eating.

Yawning at the top of my lungs, I went out into the kitchen, saw a saucepan with the remains of mashed potatoes and instantly felt a pang of conscience... Yesterday I returned home, took a shower, got on the scales and was extremely upset - the arrow staggered to the mark of eighty-five. Why am I getting better again? After all, I’m on a diet, I didn’t eat anything for a day, I just looked at the products. But at six o'clock in the evening I could not stand it and ate a tiny cake in a coffee shop. The delicacy was a little more than a five-ruble coin and was a basket of fruit. The question is, what is the harm to the figure from strawberries? Yes, there was cream at the bottom of the tartlet, but the waitress said it was very light, containing zero calories. And here you are - an extra three kilos! Overnight!

I stared blankly at the transparent window, in which the arrow froze on an unpleasant number. I wonder if Gris will notice an increase in his wife's hips?

Just don't think that my husband belongs to that breed of men who are constantly looking for an excuse to give a moral slap in the face to their life partner. Probably, you have met such men more than once, it is on them that plastic surgery rests. You don't have to go far for an example.

In the next apartment, across the wall, lives the Norman family: Edik, Katya and eight-year-old Anechka. Katerina is constantly improving her appearance. First, she made herself a bust of the fourth size, because Eduard likes women with large breasts, then she slightly changed the shape of her nose, because Eduard likes snub-nosed women, and after another trip to the clinic, Katya pumped her lips with silicone, because Eduard likes women who look like Donald Duck duck. Personally, I wonder why, with love for girls with voluminous forms, Edik married skinny Katya with a minus one bust size? In Russia, it is easy to find a person who has Persians that surpass watermelons, and even snub-nosed and big-lipped ones are a dime a dozen. We do not live in Vietnam, where such a specimen cannot be found during the day with fire. And we have - just spit! Go outside and look carefully around, you will instantly notice about ten suitable girls. But Edik, apparently, loves difficulties. He chose Katya, who was very far from his ideal, and began to improve her, periodically stating:0005

- If you want me to live with you, please work on yourself.

And poor Katyusha obediently goes under the knife.

My Gris is not like that. He loves me very much and constantly repeats:

- Honey, don't give a damn about fashion magazines! Believe me, Tanyusha, walking bones do not attract me at all, I like donuts.

But it is difficult to feel peace of mind when society openly poisons obese women. Ladies, whose size is a little more than forty-six, it is difficult to buy decent clothes and shoes - the shops are filled with things made for mice in the extreme stage of dystrophy. To short tight dresses, boots are offered, into the tops of which you can put only dry branches. And endless talk about diets, healthy eating, sports... Even if you look normal, you still want to lose weight, because you are brainwashed by radio and TV. In an atmosphere of general hysteria, only a few are able to maintain their sanity, and Gree is one of them.

In a word, I would not go on a diet for any money, pardon the stupid pun. It was only a couple of months ago that I became ill - dizziness, palpitations, shortness of breath began, and a frightened Gris took me to a cardiologist. And not to a district clinic, but to a large medical center equipped with state-of-the-art equipment. I talked to the professor and left him completely horrified.

– Lose weight immediately! - the doctor ordered me. Then he explained: - Your normal weight is sixty kilograms. If during the year you do not put yourself in order, then the consequences will not keep you waiting: heart attack, stroke, diabetes, atherosclerosis.

When Gree learned about the doctor's prophecy, he announced:

- Now the war begins!

And since then I have been struggling with weight. The latter, however, wins this fight.

And now I'm staring at the saucepan from the mashed potatoes. As I already said, I did not eat for a day, only in a coffee shop, where for some reason my legs themselves brought me, I was seduced by a tiny cake. You know how worried I was! While driving home, she just gnawed herself and even cried. In tears, she entered the apartment, washed herself, ran to the kitchen to take a sip of some water, saw a saucepan with mashed potatoes on the stove, and her hand grabbed the spoon...

My husband often goes on business trips. Gris is an actor, unfortunately, so far underestimated by directors. He is not offered big roles, the spouse is mainly filmed in commercials that do not go on central television channels. It should be noted that Gree does not refuse any offers, he instantly gathers and flies to the call. There are sometimes completely force majeure circumstances. Let's say the artist calls the director a day before the start of filming and says:

- Chao, guys, my plans have changed - I was offered the role of Hamlet. Look for someone else to advertise laxatives.

And the dead, having fallen into a panic, starts calling everyone who can replace the "star".

So, last night my husband received an offer from a company producing detergents, and he hastily flew to Vladivostok. And I, a caring wife, have already managed to cook mashed potatoes for him for dinner - Gris loves potatoes in all forms.

By the way, would you like to know how to make the world's best pusher? There are some secrets here. Firstly, mashed boiled potatoes must be poured with hot cream of at least twenty percent fat. Never use cold skim milk, the puree will get a nasty bluish color. After diluting the potatoes to the desired consistency, throw a piece of butter into it, take a mixer and beat the mixture. Believe me, you will get a dish of unearthly taste.

That's exactly what happened to me yesterday. Gris rushed off without touching his supper, and he will return in ten days. But after all, not a single housewife in her right mind will send fresh food to the trash can and watch how they die in agony in the refrigerator. ..

I ran to the bathroom, quickly jumped on the scales, and tried to swallow the bitter lump that had risen across my throat. I will never touch cake again! Well, why did a tiny tartlet with berries weighing twenty grams add three kilos to me? Most likely, the diet that I have been following lately is not effective. She was recommended to me by a client.

“It helps a lot,” she said. “I lost 30 pounds in a month. Everything is very simple. Eat once every forty-eight hours. But you can use any products, from the belly.

I believed the slender lady, but I couldn't get rid of the fat folds!

In complete anguish, I turned on the TV - let him mutter, took a sponge, dripped liquid soap on it and began to wash the saucepan. Exactly a second later, the cell phone rang.

I dried my hands with a towel, picked up the phone and said with a sigh:

– Hello.

“I know that you have a day off,” my boss Renata Loginova purred, “but we have force majeure. The client needs you! She looked at our photo album and chose your picture.

“Yeah,” I muttered hopelessly, “I understand.

- Do me a favor, come!

- I'm in a disassembled state, I can only appear in two hours.

– Are you going to do a circular facelift? Renata asked irritably.

- While I take a shower, dry my hair, apply makeup, at least an hour will pass. And about the same amount will be needed on the way to the office, - I calmly retorted.

“No one here is going to send you to a beauty contest,” Loginova hissed. - Jump out as is - save a lot of time. By the way, running is good for your health. Some people are making crazy money for fitness, and now you have a free opportunity to jog along the avenue. Ein, zwei, dry - the client is waiting!

And I obediently ran into the hallway. From Loginova jokes are bad. In appearance, our boss looks like a white, fluffy, helpless bunny. The resemblance to an eared animal increases when Renata gets angry and her eyes begin to squint slightly. At such a moment, employees understand: it's time to crawl under the table, now they will be covered by a hurricane. Yes, yes, Loginova is a machine, an iron mechanism that knows no fatigue, no fear, no mercy. Renata is not touched by stories about sick children, she does not accept any excuses from employees who decide to take a break from work.

“If you don’t want to work, get out,” Loginova declares, “we don’t keep anyone by force.

Not every person can withstand such pressure, in my memory, a lot of people left the Prikol agency. But I'm still holding on. To be honest, I really like it here. Before joining “Prikol”, I tried several professions: I worked at a school as a teacher of Russian language and literature (I have a higher philological education), served as a secretary, then I was unemployed for some time. Well, then fate sent me Gri. By God, I got it for all the suffering I endured (at the time of our acquaintance I was a widow) ^[1] .

It was Gree who brought me to the agency, whose slogan sounds a bit cheeky: "There are no problems for us. " In "Prikol" they organize non-standard holidays, including helping to play relatives and work colleagues. For example, in the spring, one oligarch wished his young daughter to visit Kenya. There is nothing easier, you exclaim and you will be right - any tour operator can easily select a hotel in Nairobi and buy air tickets. But in our case, there was a small detail: a caring father did not want to let his daughter go to the black continent. Africa should have been delivered to the house, to the courtyard of a cottage located in the village with the lovely name of Sopelkino.

Of course, "Prikol" coped with the task, Loginova was not even embarrassed by the fact that it was March and the weather was slushy. The baby went to school, and when she returned at about six in the evening, she squealed with delight. Dirt and puddles disappeared from the site, as if by magic. The yard was covered with clean sand, palm trees stuck out here and there, monkeys ran in flocks between them, a hippopotamus bathed in a heated pool, an elephant trampled at the front door, and black servants in loincloths swarmed in the house.

How much money the loving father paid to the agency remained a mystery to ordinary employees. Personally, I believe the bill went into the millions.

Do not think that "Prikol" takes only large-scale events, we are happy to help everyone. Here is another example: once a shy young man came to us, passionately in love with his classmate. The beauty did not pay the slightest attention to the quiet guy, and he, in despair, turned to the professionals:

- Help, come up with something! - And then Romeo added timidly: - But I have only three hundred dollars, probably not enough.

We must pay tribute to Renata - with the owner of an oil well, who can make a lot of money, and with a poor student, she always speaks with the same respect. “Big income comes from little money,” the agency owner likes to repeat. She told the fifth-year student:

- You have announced the budget, tomorrow you will receive our offer.

Ten days later, the beauty, carelessly walking in the evening along a deserted street, was attacked by a maniac. A hefty bull twisted the unfortunate, and when she was about to part with her life, our young man appeared out of nowhere. In no time, the brave Romeo recaptured the girl from the monster and handed him over to the cops, who very successfully taxied around the corner in a patrol car. The guy took the frightened girl home to death, and on the way he confessed his love to her, remarking casually:0005

– I have been secretly accompanying you for a long time, protecting you from trouble.

Of course, the story ended with a wedding. Renata deftly coped with the task, based on the estimate. The role of the maniac was played for fifty bucks by a student of the Institute of Physical Education, a master of sports in freestyle wrestling. The policemen for such a simple service arranged a fee of one hundred dollars, the remaining amount went to the income of "Prikol".

There are not many full-time employees in the agency, we mainly attract people from outside. I am one of those who are entitled to a decent salary and commission (Gri has known Renata for a long time and was pleased for his wife). I like working in the agency, and Loginova is pleased with me as an employee. The hostess entrusts me with difficult cases. Of course, I do not have an acting education, but I still have a certain talent for acting, although I often go to intuition. True, unlike the brilliant Gris, I sometimes play out of tune. However, people, as a rule, do not notice the “jambs” of Ms. Sergeeva. Here's another argument in favor of fat women - they don't expect a dirty trick from a fat person ...

I went out onto the stairs, locked the door, turned to the elevator and saw my neighbor, Anechka Norman, eight years old. The girl's eyes were swollen and her nose turned red.

- What happened? – instead of “hello” I exclaimed.

“Tomorrow is my birthday,” Anya muttered.

“Congratulating a person in advance is a bad omen,” I smiled, “but in the morning I will certainly bring you a small present. What kind of candy do you like best? With chocolate filling or with marzipan?

- But my grandmother does not believe in omens and has already congratulated me! Anya whispered.

“In fact, all sorts of black cats, the thirteenth and unlucky Monday are absolute nonsense,” I quickly picked up. - Don't be upset! Grandma wanted to be the first to please you!

Anya pressed her fists to her chest and said somewhat off topic:

- Baba Olya is a doctor.

“You're lucky,” I nodded, continuing the conversation.

“Pathologist,” Anya continued, having easily coped with the difficult word. She cuts up corpses.

“It’s a good profession,” I said less confidently, “grandmother helps doctors clarify the diagnosis.

- She talks about her work. Often!

“Mhm,” I mumbled, surprised. Of course, it's good when adults communicate with children, keep them aware of their problems, it unites the family. But, you see, talking with a second-grader about what is happening on the dissector's table is somehow too much.

“Baba Olya says,” Anya switched to a whisper, “that all dead people have bad teeth. Straight horror! But everything should be beautiful for a person, right?

“Yeah,” I agreed, “in principle, right.

“My grandmother gave me money for my birthday,” Anya said sadly. But they are targeted.

- What?

“Targeted,” Anya repeated. - On the teeth. Tomorrow they will take me to the dentist, to correct the bite, to treat caries. Great, right? A chic gift.

I blinked, and the girl continued:

- Baba Olya said that she did not want to burn with shame when I was at the pathologist. They crawl into my mouth, and there are teeth like those of a male baboon. Aunt Tanya, why don't you go into the elevator?

I died and went into the cockpit. But she couldn't cope with dumbness from amazement.

Once upon a time, Albert Einstein said in his hearts: "Either I'm crazy, or the whole world has gone crazy." Oh how I now agree with him! Who would argue, a child needs to have his teeth treated, but you can’t give a trip to the dentist for his birthday! And what is the passage of a sweet granny about the table of the pathologist, on which Anya should find herself. By the way, I wonder what is so unpleasant about the teeth of a male baboon, and how does the dearest Olga Nikolaevna know about the problems of monkeys?

Chapter 2

– Did you just get out of bed? Renata hissed as I entered the office out of breath. - Who do you look like! If only she changed into a tracksuit!

“She told me to run as is,” I reminded her.

- But I didn't expect that your "as is" is so terrible! retorted the hostess. – Come here, to the study…

All my childhood, then adolescence and most of my adulthood were spent around my extremely dissatisfied daughter's mother. She constantly made remarks to me:

- Don't hunch over! Don't chew! Do not talk! Do not be lazy! Learn well! Forget about the boys! Diploma first, fun later!

I think my mother wanted to raise an ideal member of society, spurred me on to some ideal that lived in her head, but I turned out to be an ungrateful material and served my parents as an eternal reminder of their pedagogical failure. No, no, I didn’t do anything asocial, I didn’t smoke, I didn’t drink, I kissed for the first time only at the wedding, my wedding night was my first in every sense of the word. I tried very hard to please my own mother! But if schoolgirl Tanya managed to get a B in mathematics, she was immediately asked at home:0005

– Why not five?

Picking up my notebook with the essay, my mother was indignant:

– What a handwriting! Dirty! I don't know why the teacher gave you excellent marks! You don't deserve more than three!

Both dad and mom passed away, and I never became a role model. I perfectly know my negative qualities: I am lazy, slow, slow-thinking, passive, ugly, too fat and clumsy. One can only wonder why Gris, under which the beauties are stacked in piles, married me. Until now, I am tormented by bewilderment: well, what did he find in me? And besides, my husband is much younger.

However, I successfully try to hide my insecurities behind a broad smile, although any hint of my physical flaws stings me more than wild African wasps. But I understand very well: if I show my resentment, others will not hesitate to take advantage of it.

Do you want advice from a woman who was constantly bullied by her classmates and classmates? As soon as someone, wanting to prick you, exclaims: “Wow! Today you are worse than an atomic war and you have clearly gained in your sides!” - do not try to pout your lips and cry. They will not pity you, and the boor will not experience remorse. There needs to be a different way to fight. Smile broadly and, with an idiotic smile of joy, exclaim, “That's right! Think about it, I want to take part in the "Fattest Ass" competition. And start laughing out loud. Do a similar trick a couple of times, and you will be left behind. It’s not interesting to tease a person who is ready to laugh at himself. Then, of course, you will cry in the bathroom, behind a tightly closed door, but outsiders should not even guess about it ...

And now, having heard Loginova's words, I immediately used the tried and tested technique.

– What are you, today I look just wonderful! Just yesterday ... Oh, sorry you didn’t see me, these were the ruins of the Cherkizovsky market.

– Why its ruins? Loginova was suddenly surprised. “Pompeii is usually mentioned.

“I’m not going to Pompeii,” I answered with false modesty, “my ceiling is a flea market.

Renata giggled.

“You have a unique gift for making people feel good again,” she said.

“I happen to be able to do this,” I shrugged my shoulders, not losing my role.

Loginova opened the door and let me into her office.

- Vera Petrovna, look, is she coming? And the photo often distorts a person. Although in our album there are excellent cards of employees.

I just smiled at the thought that flashed through my mind: if you look like your own image in your passport, urgently ask for a vacation. And then she looked at the client.

A thin woman, resembling a plucked sparrow, stood up leaning on her hands.

- Oh! Fabulous! she exclaimed, giving me a tenacious look. - Even a sports suit in the vein, she adored such clothes. And you don't need a lot of makeup. Amazing match! Let's go!

- Where to? I asked.

- Didn't they explain to you? Vera Petrovna was alarmed.

“I haven’t had time yet,” said Renata.

- Catastrophe! She won't be able to learn the part! moaned the customer and collapsed back into her chair.

“Tatiana is our best employee,” the hostess sang.

I put on my air. A kind word and a cat is pleased.

“Mrs. Sergeeva is a super pro, she copes with any tasks easily,” Renata continued to praise me.

This is where the aforementioned super-professional became alert. Oh, it’s not for nothing that Loginova pours oil! It looks like something of a major misfortune has happened.

“Enough talking, it’s better to bring the actress to the heart of the matter,” Vera Petrovna interrupted Renata.

“So that’s it…” Loginova abruptly changed her tone and turned to me. - Vera Petrovna has a husband, Oleg Mikhailovich. They have complete mutual understanding, a secure home, no problems.

“Great,” I interrupted with my comment.

“But lately Oleg has become sad,” the customer entered into the conversation. - He was always cheerful, very witty, but here he completely wilted.

Trouble at work? I suggested.

- Not the slightest hint, - the lady snapped, - his business is stable.

– Maybe… sorry, of course… mistress? I blurted out.

Renata imperceptibly pinched me, but Vera Petrovna did not get angry.

- My husband doesn't go to the left! I don't know about any of that! She rejected my suggestion.

“And most wives don't even know about the infidelity of their spouses,” I continued. - Few people start adultery in order to inform their wife about it!

- Oleg tells me everything. Absolutely! the lady said. - My husband is extremely frank with me, I am aware of his affairs and moral torment.

I lowered my head. The desire to be completely spiritually naked in front of another person, even if close to you, is a symptom of mental illness. Normal people always have some secrets, big and small, that even at gunpoint they don’t want to voice. This means that either the peasant is slightly out of his mind, or Vera Petrovna is being deceived.

“Naturally, I worked with my husband,” the client continued, “and in the course of the conversation I found out that he yearns for the times of his childhood. Clear?

Renata and I nodded at the same time.

- In order for Oleg to recover, I equipped a room for him, recreated the room in which he spent his school years, - Vera Petrovna broadcast. “Of course, I had to work hard, but the result exceeded all my expectations. Yes, you will see for yourself. Oleg entered the nursery and shed a tear. He rushed to hug me, cried with happiness and said: “Now I have a corner where I can completely relax. Thanks honey!"

Vera Petrovna broke off, took out her bag, pulled out a handkerchief and began to blot her eyes, shedding tears too.

I looked at Renata and imperceptibly twisted my finger at my temple. Loginova spread her hands. The customer put the handkerchief into the bowels of her reticule and returned to her story:

- The week passed splendidly. Oleg literally revived - again he joked, laughed. But then it went off again. And I had to work with him again.

- I think in this particular case it is best to contact a specialist, invite a doctor, - I could not stand it.

Vera Petrovna crossed her legs.

- Honey, I'm a psychotherapist. Are you clear? I am an experienced specialist, I have an extensive practice and I am wonderfully versed in the problem of my husband. And it is this: Oleg actually grew up as an orphan with living parents, he received less love and affection. So, just fill an empty vessel. Clear?

Loginova and I nodded again.

“During the sessions, one circumstance came up,” the lady continued. - Oleg's family had a housekeeper. She took care of the boy, helped him with his lessons, praised him, and sometimes punished him. In short, she also performed the duties of a governess. It was Tigrovna who was for Oleg a symbol of calm, a bastion of reliability. Alas, the old woman died when Oleg was in the tenth grade. And from that time on, a wound formed in his heart. The husband cannot relax, he does not feel spiritual comfort.

- What a strange name - Tigrovna - I was amazed.

"The woman's name was Natella Tigranovna," Vera Petrovna smiled. - However, it was difficult for the child to pronounce her name and patronymic, and the result was Tigrovna. So, you have to play her role!

I was taken aback for a second, then held out:

- I don't look like an old woman. And, I think, Natella Tigranovna was an Armenian. I am Russian and by age I am by no means a grandmother.

"Don't worry, Vera Petrovna," Renata twitched. - Tatyana will portray what is needed. Let's make her up, cover her up, age her, if necessary, glue the antennae ...

Vera Petrovna waved her hands.

- No, no! Tigerovna was in fact a little over thirty-five, but to the child she seemed elderly. Tatyana is very similar to a governess, she just needs to draw a birthmark on her temple.

- Excellent! Loginova exclaimed. - The make-up artist is coming. And while he is working, you will tell Tatyana how to behave with Oleg.

After a couple of hours, Vera Petrovna and I got out of the car - by the way, not at all an expensive foreign car - and went up the stairs to the luxurious front door of the pretentious mansion. It seems that Oleg Mikhailovich, who dreams of returning to a carefree childhood, earns big money, it is unlikely that a huge house was built on the fees of a psychotherapist.

“Children's room on the first floor,” the hostess explained. - This way, please, through the library. No, no, here is Irina's room, to our left ... Op-la, come!

The door in front of which we stopped was strikingly different from the others by which Vera Petrovna led me. It was not solid, made of solid oak, but simply plywood. And the other color is grey-white. There were scratches on the panels here and there, and the handle looked very cheap. It was the face of a lion with a ring protruding from its mouth.

“Come in,” the psychotherapist ordered and opened the door.

A bedroom opened up before my eyes. By the wide window stood the most ordinary two-pedestal desk. There was glass on its surface, and under it was the lesson schedule. A note was tucked next to it: “Pool on Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 18.00 to 19.30. Music school on Thursday, Saturday, Sunday and Tuesday from 16:00 to 20:00. Don't forget your bag." A stack of textbooks rose on the tabletop to the right, several notebooks to the left, an ordinary table lamp, and a flip calendar was white in the middle. Against the wall stood a three-door wardrobe, behind which was a bed with iron headboards, the top of which was decorated with small balls painted white. Against the other wall is a bookcase and what looks like a chest of drawers littered with model cars. Next came an armchair, above which hung a plastic radio.

A man was sleeping peacefully on a bunk, dressed in blue flannelette pajamas, clearly tailored to his wife's order. Now you will not find such garments during the day with fire. Today's children are more fortunate than their peers from the last century - the kids now have bright clothes and wonderful toys. One computer is worth something! And Oleg Mikhailovich's peers spent their free time in the company with models of cars and aircraft.

- Well, start, - commanded Vera Petrovna, - I wish you good luck. Most importantly, don't doubt yourself! Oleg is ready for the game.

- Is he really sleeping? I asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” she nodded. He has a day off today, had lunch and went to bed. Get started!

Vera Petrovna left, but I remained in the bedroom. She stood for a moment, then resolutely walked over to the bed and shook her master by the shoulder.

- Olezhek, get up!

“Leave me alone,” he whispered.

- Time to drink tea.

- I don't want to!

- You have to get up.

- Get off! What the hell is wrong, you fool!

I was taken aback. And what should the governess do if the pupil is frankly rude? I don't have kids of my own, so I don't have parenting experience either, but I guess a rude person should be punished.

– How are you talking to me?! Ask for forgiveness immediately! I barked.

Oleg sat down, shook his head and, without opening his eyes, declared:

– Have you lost your mind? Oh, and you're tired of me, damn it! Get out from here!

I was seized with the deepest astonishment. The word "damn" is almost an obscene expression for a child. And what should I do? Slap "baby" on the lips? But the text of the learned role was completely different! Okay, I'll start voicing it.

“Dear Plusha, your favorite “ears” are on the table,” I chirped. - Come quickly, it's time to drink tea with homemade cookies.

Oleg's eyes opened wide and rested on me. I smiled and continued:

- Tigrovna baked "ears"!

The master's face was distorted by a grimace.

- Who are you? he asked in a barely audible voice.

- Don't know, dear?

“N-no,” Oleg stammered. - That is, yes ... Oh my God! Not!

“You were sleeping very soundly,” I said memorized words, “I barely woke you up. Today is the tenth of October. Or forgot?

– The tenth of October… – echoed Oleg. - Oh no! Not true! Where's she?

- Who? I feigned astonishment.

However, I actually experienced some surprise. Vera Petrovna, when she explained to me the role of a nanny, foresaw all the reactions of her husband: at first he would be surprised, then he would realize that his wife had prepared a new fun for him, and enthusiastically join the game. But while the client is not really making contact.

- Trouble, - Oleg mumbled, - my memory has completely lost its way.

I laughed.

- Boys do not get sclerosis. Well, stop messing around, otherwise I'll punish you!

- Am I a boy? Oleg did not calm down.

- No longer a girl!

– Small? – the man was amazed.

- Stop talking! Drink tea and sit down for lessons. By the way, you're graduating soon! - I bent my line, marveling at the absurdity of the performance.

Suddenly Oleg raised his knees to his face, clasped them in his arms and, swaying from side to side, extended:

- So what is the date today?

- It is said, the tenth of October.

– Where is mother?

She is resting.

- Where?

- In my bedroom. She'll wake up soon, and I'll complain to her.

Is today the tenth of October?

– Oh my God... Yes!

- No, not true. It can’t be,” Oleg whispered, “you’re lying.

I suppressed a sigh. According to Vera Petrovna's calculations, now her husband should have demanded an afternoon snack - everything was prepared in the room for tea drinking. But, obviously, she still did not thoroughly study her husband, and the action began to unfold according to plan.

– Tenth of October? – shied away to the wall Oleg. - I do not want! I do not want! All! End! Not!

A scream swept across the room and shot up to the ceiling. This is where I got scared and decided to stop playing.

- Oleg Mikhailovich, calm down.

Wherever there! The owner's eyes glazed over like a zombie's.

– Tigrovna! You! Live! Tenth! Not! She's here! My head! Help! Hurts! Give!

- What? – I fussed. - Medicine? Which?

The owner suddenly laughed.

- I'll be fine now. Highly!

Before I had time to gasp, Oleg Mikhailovich jumped up, reached the closet with one jump, opened the door, grabbed a vial from the shelf and poured its contents into his mouth at once.

- Spit it out immediately! I ordered, still on auto-pilot playing the role of babysitter.

Oleg Mikhailovich took a step forward, bent his knees and slowly sank to the floor. Then he lay down on the worn carpet, scattered his arms and legs to the side, shuddered and froze.

I rushed to Oleg Mikhailovich, tried to turn him over on his back, but only managed to lift his head. The wide-open eyes did not blink, the mouth was half open, and the nose began to sharpen right in front of my eyes. I jumped aside, hit the bed, fell and, without getting up, crawled on all fours to the door. It looks like Oleg Mikhailovich has just died.

There was an empty vial left on the carpet - narrow, long, with a red label and a cork the color of blood. The neck of the bottle was twisted. Agree, a strange design for the packaging of a drug.

Diet for three piglets

“We are a family business,” the saleswoman muttered while I filled in the fields. - My sister's husband is a scientist, a candidate of sciences, he found an erdbrida. And Lenka and I are from a plow, so he produces, and I trade. It's clear?

- No. What is er ... br ... cr ... well, this is nonsense?

Sveta leaned her chest on the counter.

- Tell me, how much do I weigh?

- Well ... seventy kilograms, - I tried to estimate the parameters of the saleswoman.

“Sixty-eight,” Svetlana corrected. - And in July I pulled at a hundred and twenty. Thicker than you!

I ignored the last remark and asked admiringly:

- Have you been on a diet? Will you share a secret?

And Sveta gestured around the counter with a broad gesture.

- Listen carefully! Vladimir, my sister's husband, a doctor. He drew attention to the fact that in one village in Tuva everyone is surprisingly slender. They eat everything, but look like reeds. Volodya managed to talk to the oldest inhabitants of the town, and they said that there is a forest nearby, in which a stunning tree grows - erdbrida. It must be cut down, cut into sawdust, dried and added to food. Vladimir studied landings for a long time, and now we have organized Three Fat Men LLC. Understand? Environmentally friendly and useful. There is the Black Forest cake. Not only was it made from skimmed milk, lightened butter, bran flour and chocolate without cocoa beans and sugar, they also added erdbride. It's a negative calorie.

- In what way? I was amazed.

Sveta looked at the potential buyer with superiority.

- Eat and lose weight! The body will not receive calories, but will spend them on digesting the cake. This is the secret of erdbrida.

- And what is it called in Russian, this rubbish of yours? I inquired.

- Do I express myself in Chinese? - Sveta was offended. - Erdbrida, there is no other name.

– If the tree is so miraculous, why does no one know about it?

The saleswoman frowned.

- Folk recipe came from time immemorial. Where is Moscow and where is Tuva! Now we will unwind and become billionaires.

“It must be terribly tasteless,” I hesitated. - What good can come from chocolate, in which there is neither cocoa nor sugar?

Sveta rolled her eyes, then took a plastic plate, cut off a small piece of cake and handed it to me.

- Try it. Test Drive!

It seemed indecent to me to refuse, I carefully put a piece in my mouth and exclaimed:

- Awesome!

- And then ... - Svetlana chuckled. - Are you taking it?

- Yes. That basket of whipped cream over there. Is it low in calories? I still decided to be vigilant.

- Finally minus zero, you can safely gobble up five pieces! - assured the saleswoman.

– Then also a cake, – I got excited.

– Sweet stomach will hurt, – Sveta warned, – take a salad. I can advise potato, and sausages to it. Freshest! And what a scent… Smell it!

My mouth immediately filled with saliva, but my mind suppressed an inopportunely raging appetite.

- Potato? With mayonnaise? And there is only fat in sausages!

– Do you hear other people, or do you only revel in your own speeches? Light sighed. I have explained it a hundred times! Potatoes are also from Tuva, they grow in the field, which turned out after cutting down the erdbrida, so it has acquired weight loss properties. Mayonnaise is light, it does not contain any eggs or butter. And the pig, from which the sausages were made, ate the remains of erdbrida. We bring everything from Tuva! Exclusive! Oh, Ivan Sergeevich ... hello, how are you?

A resemblance of a grasshopper, dressed in a long black cloak and hat, approached the counter, staggering slightly.

- You look wonderful, - Svetlana squealed briskly. - How many kege did you lose, Ivan Sergeevich?

“Eighty,” whispered the shadow. - Only I'm not Ivan Sergeevich, but Elena Petrovna.

- Wow! I didn't recognize you, you're so handsome! the saleswoman exclaimed.

- Cook for us as usual, - ordered the ghost, - I'll be back in an hour.

- Have you seen it? - Svetlana asked when the "cloak" got lost between the shelves. - Professor Gorkina, weighed two centners. And her husband was a match for her, he was just a bomb carrier. Since spring they are my regular customers.

“Give me three cakes, lettuce, sausages and a piece of jelly,” I commanded greedily. - How much do I have to pay?

- With all the discounts, two thousand one hundred rubles.

- Oh, and never mind!

- Okay, I'll throw off another hundred. I like you, I want to help you. Are you married?

- Yes. And what?

- Men run away from fat women, - Sveta sighed. - Is two pieces of wood really a big price to pay for beauty and personal happiness?

I immediately reached for my wallet. A second later, she remembered the loss of her purse and pulled out an envelope with money. It's good that Renata gave me a salary.

“Come back tomorrow,” the merchant offered cordially, holding out the package. - Enjoy your meal!

Only a woman trying to lose weight will understand the delight I felt when I sat down at the table, where there were many tasty things on the plates. Maybe sausages will seem like shabby food to someone, but lately I was afraid to even look at them, I chewed mostly lettuce leaves and boiled beets, so the aroma emanating from these pink meat sticks literally turned my head.

“Darling,” I said loudly to myself, grabbing my fork, “eat slowly, chew thoroughly. Stretch the pleasure and do no harm to health, understood?

But my appetite eclipsed the arguments of reason, I pounced on dinner and swallowed it in the blink of an eye. I don't remember what happened next. The large meal acted like a good portion of alcohol. I staggered to the bed and collapsed into the pillows...

The alarm clock beeped above my ear, I mechanically hit it with my right hand, and patted Gri on the back with my left.

- Honey, get up!

At the sound of my voice, the remnants of sleep flew away, the memory returned. Gris is on set, he's not around. When my husband is absent, I usually sleep badly, yesterday I fell down like a wreck and slept until the morning, it seems, not even moving.

Yawning, I got into the shower, then perched on the scales and almost fell off them. Eighty seven! Can't be! How did I manage to add as many as two kilos in one day! After all, she didn't eat anything! Generally!

In utter bewilderment, I entered the kitchen, saw a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink and gasped. Crap! I completely forgot about this one ... how is it ... erd ... bird ... Probably, at the time of purchase and in the process of eating food, my brain went to rest in the Maldives or somewhere else! Well, how could I believe the fairy tale about er-byr-holes, obtained by hell knows where? Why did I fall for the story about low-calorie cakes? 'Cause I know it's a lie Zero fat cream is nonsense. Cream - they are cream, not water. The liquid pouring from the tap will never whip into a dense sweet mass! And if this suddenly happens, it means that the manufacturers used all sorts of “thickeners”, poured the entire periodic table into the product from the heart. Tanya, look at the fatty plates! You are a complete idiot!

My self-flagellation was interrupted by a phone call.

- Please, call Mr. Babulkin, - an almost childish voice sang thinly.

"He's gone," I replied grimly.

- And when will he return?

- I won't say exactly, I think in a week.

- Oh, how bad! came from the tube.

- Did something happen? I asked.

- The company "Frukt-Trans-Brik" [7] worries you, - the girl officially introduced herself. - Mr. Babulkin starred in our advertising clip. The management was satisfied with his work and decided to offer him a new role.

– There is some kind of inconsistency here, – I was surprised. - Grie left with the film crew of "Fruit-Trans-Brick", work on the video is in full swing.

“No,” the girl argued.

“Yes,” I persisted, “you just don't know.

A soft laugh was heard from the receiver.

- Without me, no one will go anywhere, - said the interlocutor, - I dare to assure you, we are still at the stage of writing the script.

“But my husband left,” I was confused.

- Who? the girl asked.

- My husband, Gree. Did you ask him?

- I'm looking for Mr. Babulkin, - the interlocutor repeated in a tense voice, - his mobile - seven hundred sixty-four, four zeros - does not answer.

- That's right, - I confirmed, - the husband turned out to be ... Excuse me, what numbers did you name?

“Seven hundred sixty-four, four zeros,” the girl whispered.

– But Grie has a different number!

- Is your husband Grandma's?

- Yes.

- Legal? Is there a stamp in the passport?

“Of course,” I replied dumbfounded. And then she was indignant: - Who are you? Why are you calling us at home and asking impudent questions?

Short beeps sounded in response. I felt uneasy, and immediately wanted to eat. In order not to cry, I quickly built a three-story sandwich, ate it, felt some relief, ran into the hallway, pulled newspapers out of my bag, took a large magnifying glass and ...

Half an hour later, hunger hit me with even greater force. I studied Gree's appearance very well, my favorite pastime is to look at my husband sleeping peacefully. The fact is that my body constantly requires delicious fatty food at night, and, wanting to get rid of excess weight, I try to forget about dinner, and then toss and turn from side to side under a duvet. Gris immediately flies to the country of Morpheus. And what is left for me? Just admire your man. Therefore, I counted the small moles on my husband’s forehead a long time ago, I know that his nose tip is slightly shifted to the right. And now, having spent not the best minutes of my life over the pictures with a magnifying glass in my hands, I am one hundred percent sure: the bearded macho, gently embracing the rich loafer Marta Karts, is MY favorite! And now what i can do?

A new sandwich (this time with ham, cheese and pâté) calmed my nervous nerves a bit and gave me back my sanity. As a rule, unfaithful spouses come across by accident. They pierce on trifles: they will tell a naive wife that they are sitting at a meeting, while they themselves run to the cinema with their mistress. They seem to get away with lying, but then the caring little wife takes the adulterer's coat to send it to the dry cleaner, turns out his pockets so that valuables do not remain in them ... And wow! Right at the feet of the zealous hostess, two used tickets to the cinema fall, and even to “places for kissing”.

So something similar happened to me today - I got a call from the advertising department. By the way! The girl called a completely unfamiliar cell number. Does Grey have another phone?

I rushed to the home machine, and it suddenly rang.

- Listen! I yelled, barely able to contain my anger. - Speak alive!

“Maybe I'm at the wrong time,” an unfamiliar female voice murmured.

Anger covered me with a black wave.

- If you're looking for Gree, then MY husband is busy!

- I wanted to talk to Tanya Sergeeva, - the lady whispered. - Tell her, Ira is calling.

- What is it?

- Her best friend, Irina!

I suppressed a groan. I don’t know how things are with other people, but troubles come to me in a heap - if one has come, be sure to wait for the second, third. Now I just lacked alcoholics with boring complaints about fate! Where was my mind when I gave a drunkard both a mobile number and a home number? There was only one way to get rid of the pester ...

I pinched my nose with my fingers and mumbled:

- They have moved.

- Who?

- Tanya with her husband.

- Where to?

- I have no idea.

- When? Irina did not calm down.

- Two months have passed, we moved over in the summer.

“But Tanechka and I talked yesterday, and she gave me these numbers,” Irina remarked reasonably.

- So she was wrong. Habit, you know, is an amazing thing, I didn’t give up.

– Where can I look for Tanya?

- I can't even imagine.

- You live in her apartment, - the "girlfriend" did not calm down.

It looks like Irina didn't sniff alcohol today, she talks quite reasonably.

“We bought the property from the agency,” I snapped, glad I hadn't turned on my cell phone yet, “we weren't told who owned it before. Don't call here again. Hey, are you listening?

- Help! - rustled from the tube. - I called Tanya on her mobile, and they say: the subscriber is unavailable. Now it turns out that Tanya has moved. After all, it was she who advised me to run! And I ran away. I don't understand how I ended up with Vera? She is evil! She is bad! What should I do?

“I don’t know,” I answered less confidently.

Irina started crying.

- I'm standing alone, in the middle of the city, I don't know where. She slipped away! I want to start a new life, erase the past. Forever and ever! And where should I go? There are so many people here!

“Wait a minute,” I muttered into the phone. Then she unclenched her fingers, which squeezed her nose, and said in an ordinary voice: - Hello, this is Tanya. Looking for me?

- Tanya! yelled the alcoholic. – I am yours…

- Irina's best friend.

- Got it!

- Of course.

- Help!

– Where are you? – realizing that I was getting a new big problem, I asked.

- On the street.

Great answer. Of course, not in the Atlantic Ocean on a boat.

- Say the name.

- I don't know. There are a lot of people and cars here. There is also an advertisement hanging, something about yogurts, - Irina sobbed.

Alas, alcoholics often behave like three-year-olds. The alcoholized brain ceases to function normally.

- Can you read? I asked.

– Do I look like a fool? - the "best friend" was slightly offended.

“No,” I sighed.

Well, don't tell Irina the truth: "You don't look like an idiot, you're a super idiot."

- Go to any building and say what is written on the sign.