For which she was mercilessly raining:

— My son has the same rights to my granddaughter as you! He will feed her/put her/dress, which means that Vanya chooses the name! You have no vote right, the keeper is filthy! You just know how to hide my son’s lady! — Twisted.

— Rita, listen to me. Mom had dreamed of calling her daughter Isolda all her life. And you cannot only from your sense of contradiction prevent my mother from realizing her dream! — the husband echoed her.

— Let’s call! And then I call the son of Tristan! Did you want to hear that? Dudks! And what did your mother call her daughter Nastya? She had dreamed of Isolde all her life! Would realize her dream at the expense of her daughter. Why should mine suffer? I objected, collecting things.

“You won’t see a penny from us if the granddaughter is Masha!” You can’t see a single coin like your ears! — my husband’s mother threatened me.

“You can put them somewhere.” For example, in the nose. I will live without you! — I slammed the door of our rented apartment with my husband.

The birth went well, and I got happiness: 52 centimeters of growth and 3660 weights. Neither dad nor grandmother on his part, my Mashenka was not needed. There were enough maternity leaves, but I fundamentally filed for my husband for alimony. He, if that, also took part in the process, let his share of responsibility also bear his share.

My mother and I lived with my mother. The mother -in -law called me once, after childbirth. Neither hello, nor how are you. One question:

“Have you changed your mind yet?”

And, having heard “no”, she hung up. I did not apply for divorce. At first she hoped that her husband would form. Then to the fact that the mother will change his mind. And then, with the birth of Marusi, it was not at all to the divorce.

I honestly say, enjoyed life. Nobody taught me, did not put my perfect mother as an example and did not throw out the notorious dirty socks around the apartment. My mother climbed to me in one case: tinker with my granddaughter.

When Marusa was half a year, my friends pulled me out on the ship. I didn’t want to go, but my mother almost sent me in force:

— Go, rest. You are a young beautiful girl. Perhaps you will find someone!

— Mother! I’m married. Why should I look for someone? I smiled.

-Go aid, ventilate. You need.

Her words flew into the ear to anyone. I really met on a ship with a young man, Victor. He is a widower, he has a seven -year -old son, Timka. We talked all evening. There was a feeling that we were not familiar with a few hours, but all our lives. We exchanged numbers and said goodbye.

Daily correspondence, walks with children, going to the restaurant. I did not remember about my husband. At that time, I have not seen him for more than a year. After six months of acquaintance, Victor invited Masha and I move to him. And then I remembered my husband.

— Hi, Vanya. We need to meet. — I called my husband and assigned time and place.

He came pleased as a cat, a bite cream:

-What, still came running? Mom was right! Come on, ask for forgiveness. And let’s go rename Isolda and you will finally introduce me to her.

— I came to discuss a divorce. Where to go to get divorced: to court or to the registry office? -I looked at my husband with a completely different look: slippery, with a brazen smile, exactly like a mother-in-law, my eyes run. And what did I find in it? Also, the nit -picking of his mother suffered.

— What divorce? Are you crazy? The man started, right? Oh you … my mother was right about you, and I, a fool, did not listen to her! You are all the same! — the husband started.

— I see: we will get divorced through the court. All the best. Hello mom. -I got up and went away from that filthy life in which I was forever at Mamsik’s hoping wife.

In the evening, my mother still called me, and tried to pay me from head to toe. According to her, I had to wait for 10 years to wait until my husband deigns to remember me. I am also ungrateful, and greedy and so on on the list. I did not listen to her and hung up.

I put the phone on the table, took the fallen Marusya from Victor’s hands and shifted it into the crib. At that moment, the cunning muzzle of Timka looked out of the corridor:

— Aunt Rita, will there be pancakes? They just are so tasty that my stomach does not want to eat anything else!

Vitya and I laughed, he took me in his arms and carried me into the kitchen. Here it is, happiness.