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Chapter the third family as prison for the man of

a chapter 3: a family - prison for the man

Semya - an ancestral lands the woman. That, so far the only form where the woman reigns unconditionally. At work even if it is the head of department or even the considerable enterprise, it is all the same forced to submit not to its established, man`s rules. And all the same over it there is some man who dictates it these rules. In a family of the rule establishes and she dictates one. She is queen Savskaya, an edinoderzhitsa Ekaterina, full Cleopatra.

Women often with a cunning squint of eyes and with a charming smile speak about men, as about the head of the family. Well, that it was not offensive for them. And in practice all women understand who in the house the owner. And men - the heads if they not absolutely empty, understand that if they and are allowed where to dictate the will, then for a while and in strictly certain framework.

What to buy the apartment or what to build the house what in it will be an interior what color of a curtain and what ware in kitchen - solve not both at all. The woman solves. The man has illusion of that, as he takes part in these important questions too. In practice it constantly concedes to taste and mood of future hostess.

While in a family there are no children and young people enjoy with each other, the man still has some rights. Or, in any case, the young wife generously renders to the beloved husband for his concessions in the most different questions bed luxury, than he with pleasure is content. But after in a family the firstborn appears, in the family hierarchy the place somewhere nearby house by the favourite - a mastiff and Vaskaya`s cat is allocated to the man. Though duties at it increases. And if in a family still there is “mother“, then “head“ turns into something average meanwhile “on what sit and than play the pipe“ at all.

The man allow to play the father from time to time. And he joyfully carries a carriage, feeds with a squash, sometimes washes diapers and gets up to the fidget at night. Illusion of that, as it “not the last figure“ in this game under the name “mother, the father, malyshnya-a close-knit family“ remains, sometimes with alternate success. But, of course, if the man not the full dolt is also able to analyze the facts, then he begins to notice soon that it in this party not the irreplaceable king, and in any cases can perfectly do without it. The only case in which can not always do without it, - this material security of a cell “family“. And that not always.

A family, with all its baby`s undershirts, diapers, borsches, washings and other pleasures, - as if women did not complain of them, - it that for what the woman is prepared from young nails. It was not as if heavy to the hostess in all her affairs, she in the territory, and its role is predetermined long before creation of a family. In a good family future woman in twelve years knows as as it will do: what is necessary to it the husband how many children as the dwelling will function. The man even in a family is often similar to the traveler who got lost in the desert. He is perplexed all the time. It seems, and the earth under legs the acquaintance, and the sky of wons, and it is possible to go in any direction and what to do by sense - is not known.

If in a family not the strict domestic tyranny, then “sat down not there, not there became, did not walk“ turn into everyday reality. “Head of the family“ lonely sits not on a throne, and on a stool where - nibud in the most far corner of kitchen, hasty swallowing a cold dinner while all family occupies both rooms, making the most real chaos in “its“ kingdom. At what his direct fault in it can not be. Just such is natural succession of events about which he did not suspect.

Gradually the king is forbidden to talk, smoke loudly in a toilet, to sit in front of the computer, to lie on a sofa, to leave the kingdom in improper hours. And if he nevertheless is willful, breaking not him an established order, then against it penalties right there are used: excommunication from a body, throwing of lightnings eyes and thunder lips, boycott. Up to exile from a family. Even if its dwelling, but not newly made royal family.

The queen decides what to buy, where to have a rest how to spend free time. The king`s voice solves nothing for a long time. It, as the king in chess. It seems and the main figure, and goes only to a section and that with a permission of a queen.

And here the king has two exits: or to obey and play by the rules established by the queen. Or to leave the kingdom. Of course, there are also other kingdoms where kings, but such already a rarity rule truly.

At what, queens, as a rule, - the empresses who are not ruling a loud voice, and quite gentle and fragile mummies and wives, with a soft smile in corners of a tired mouth. They do not shout, do not swear. Sometimes do not pronounce the word at all. Such queens have a king and itself knows the place.

In other kingdoms of the queen, on the contrary, rule, eternally are dissatisfied with something, and learn about their discontent right there.

In the first or in the second case, as however, almost in all others, the man in a family - as concluded in prison of the mild mode. Or we will tell settlements. Can move, but only under supervision.

Last summer, was already tired of barchelor happiness and missed family pies, I visited the distant relatives. His, her, their child and her mother. I will give - with, three days were enough for me there to run from there quicker than a gale-force wind, and half a year more to feel like the happiest of bachelors. The whole three days that I was there, claims and reproaches of Her Majesty stopped only with withdrawal to a dream. The poor king everything, literally everything, did not so. And though he was a responsible owner (a goat, hens, ducks, rabbits, bees, a kitchen garden plus still responsible work!!!) and the careful father (tried to bathe the child, took to walk also other), the shouts of Her Majesty diluted by dissatisfied puffing of the Mother is Queens, did not stop for a minute.

He did not manage to appear on a threshold as expensive supruzhnitsa, instead of a tender greeting, as well as it befits to be between the young people loving each other, a deafening Ukrainian falsetto for a start remembered to it some day before yesterday or last year`s miss, and threw “Wash hands and to a table“. What literally meant “March to wash hands and that in a minute you sat at a table“. But the king needed to examine the kingdom, and he unperturbably trudged to hens, rabbits, bees, to the neighbor Vasya, and appeared at a table when all already sat at it hour two. The queen in love gently threw as if a stone in the top of the head: “Well, and where you gadded? We what you have to be waited all evening?“. On what the king - brought up by school and five years of life with the queen of people - answered nothing, and just sat down to a table, imposed to himself on a plate the cooled-down dinner, silently ate, and again trudged to hens, goats, the neighbor Vasya. In total under ringing pricks of its beloved supruzhnitsa. Having appeared hour through two again, to it the daily end of the world (such is there was already a tradition in that kingdom) on some trifle was rolled up, it seems “Where the wood goblin carried you? You do not hurry to help me, huh? For the child who will look?“. It silently took the child on hands and trudged in a bathroom to wash dirty murzyu and all the rest, but in five minutes, in a bathroom, vysokodetsibelny explosion was distributed: “With what water you wash?! Where you throw linen?! Where you put legs?!“.

At night I, was, hoped for rest from all this Italian life, but also at night after light was already extinguished, and all dispersed on the bedchambers, suddenly in darkness and a gloom, the unruly cry of the queen was distributed: “You what to me climb?! Take away hands!“ and to that similar melodrama.

For all three days of my stay at them I never heard that the owner talked with voices raised while the hostess only this way also talked. At what it was dissatisfied with everything (here really it was the classical case of the fact that if the woman is dissatisfied in the main thing - it is dissatisfied in everything). In what specifically it was dissatisfied - I could only guess. Deafening claims which I heard were “so large-format“, beginning from late arrival home and finishing with the fact that on the street the rain went, and did not prevent it because she should have removed linen.

In one of nights for some reason one of beehives lit up. The mistress of the first noticed fire, woke all, and we with the owner, water from buckets, extinguished the blazing beehive. Then the beating was arranged to the owner again, that that slept tight and did not notice fire.

In three days, having been tired of shouts and discontent which impregnated this quite safe house, I abandoned these blissful, in strong conviction of the entire barchelor happiness.

Another, the case known to me is even heavier. Two persons advanced in years, in whose family I had to live not one week, literally did not transfer each other to spirit. Or rather, it did not transfer. And he, just, transferred everything stoically. For the woman it was just the manner of communication with long ago unloved person.

In general, all of us - part of the world and all left the mother - the nature, though having fenced off from it by concrete and neon of the metropolitan jungle. In the nature, at insects, birds and mammals of a role of a male and a female are accurately defined. He and she meet for a while to give life to posterity. At spiders the female right there after fertilization eats a male. At mammals males and females exist separately, being only for a while crossed. At birds every time after baby birds grew, is formed new couple. Of course, there are swans with their fidelity which we, people, embellished to themselves to please (to us so more romantically). Or sea horses at whom caviar is born by a male. And so on. And still the person tries to play himself, to change the nature.

The woman is her children. And the love of the woman to the man (if it in general exists) comes to an end when it has children. Or, say, it takes various forms, being melted into attachment, gratitude, a habit. But is more often, it seems to me, it is just fear of loneliness and need of a strong hand for education of posterity. No more.

The woman is a family. With its washing, cooking, cleaning. With the tipsy husband who comes after midnight. With children who beat at school of glass and receive the two. With dogs and cats. With cockroaches and mosquitoes. With all what makes this big world.

And the man is … definitely not children, a family and everything that concerns to them.