Plays on the 5,6,7,8,9,10 people. Collection №4. Nikolay Lakutin

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      The old mother pays attention to her mistake, throws up her hands in frustration.

      MOM (annoyed): Oh, I'm so busy. Now, my dear, now everything will be fine.

      The mother runs to the kitchen and returns with two plates. Takes care of his son, puts him first, puts a plate in front of him, puts a spoon, ties him a napkin (or a handkerchief at the discretion of the Director). He sits down opposite me. Proceeds to the Breakfast.

      The mother eats, not too loudly and clearly, but still slurps.

      The son sits, does not eat, and with gentle glances sends passes of mimic gestures of disapproval in the direction of the mother.

      The mother pays attention to this. She's worried.

      MOM (annoyed): What is it, dear?

      YURA (ornately): Here… Such case.

      MOTHER (alarmed): Well,what?

      YURA (prevaricating): I don't even know how to say…

      MOM (alarmed): Speak up, Lord Almighty. What happened?

      YURA (annoyed): You're slurping! Annoying!

      Mom lets out a sigh of relief, preparing for something more weighty.

      MOM (guiltily): So I'm old, no teeth read. And so I try to be careful.

      JURA (on the nerves): And not particularly it turns out!

      Mom shrugs guiltily and continues to eat. Every now and then she makes a little noise.

      YURA (with a flourish and a grimace): It may sound a little strange, it may even sound rude, and I admit that it may even be outrageous, but… Listen… And you couldn't eat somewhere out there… in the kitchen, for example, because you're losing your appetite, and Breakfast is the most important food, you said yourself… my

      Mother humbly takes her Cup, spoon, and leaves the table.

      MOM (guiltily): Yes,Yes… I understand everything. When I was young, my grandfather also irritated me with such phenomena… it came back to me. Enjoy your meal, son. I'm in the kitchen, if you need anything, call out.

      Mom leaves.

      The son makes a disgusted face, a little contemptible shiver runs through him (twitches). He looks to see if mom's gone, grimaces. The mood lifts, and he begins to eat with an impudent haughty expression on his face.

      With a clang, clang and crash, almost falling, Sanek runs into the room, trying to keep his balance.

      An iron basin and bucket, a ladle, all this also flies into the room obviously after meeting with the clumsy foot of a not too young and not particularly attentive man.

      SANEK (on emotion, rushing into the room): .

      Yura is sitting with her back to him, jumping up from the clang and crash, spilling porridge on her pants, the plate falls to the floor, but the spoon with the pitiful remnants of Breakfast is still in her hand.

      YURA (recovering from the shock, trying to cope with a nervous TIC that came from nowhere): Sanek… Healthy, old boy. You what is this neither light nor sh…, (takes a breath) nor dawn, and even so shocking. And what about the mother? I didn't hear…

      Sanek collects the basin, bucket, and ladle that he dropped, and carefully sets them all aside.

      SANEK (irritated): Yes, I'm talking… Your mother is a good woman. Economic. All something kolgotitsya, something pyzhitsya, something all makes, prepares… (points to the basin and bucket), washes, obviously. Or are you doing the Laundry?

      Yura's outraged facial expressions and gestures speak for themselves.

      YURA (taken aback): A fool or what?

      SANYA (smoothing out the corners): Me? Yes, it seems not quite. It's just that the "tazovederny trains" in your house didn't cross my path before. And as for neither light nor SRA… (takes a breath) nor dawn, so it's you overreacted. What a morning, it's almost eleven o'clock!

      Yura licks the remains of the porridge from the spoon and calls out to her mother with displeasure.

      YURA (loudly, addressing the kitchen): Mom! Here it is… Need a rag… and grab a dustpan and brush!

      Mom comes running with a rag, brush and dustpan, warmly greets Sanka. He's busy cleaning up after his son.

      YURA (to her mother, incredulously): Mom, is it really eleven o'clock?

      MOM (calmly, good): True, my son, it's already past eleven.

      YURA (to her mother, indignantly): Why did you Wake me up so late? Didn't I ask you to Wake me up at nine? Today we have a business meeting with Sanka. I should have been prepared, at least had time to Wake up properly!

      MOTHER (calmly, good): I did Wake you up, son. I came to you four times, but you didn't Wake up. He grumbled, swore, and threw a pillow at me one last time. Breakfast was already cold, and I had to warm it up. I tried, really.

      YURA (to her mother, indignantly): So you're not trying hard. I should have done something different, I don't know… to be smart. Shamed me in front of a friend.

      Yura makes an indignant grimace and rolls her eyes.

      SANYA (smoothing out the corners): Come on, whatever. It happens to everyone. I've sometimes gone as far as twelve, or even as far as two.

      MOM (with interest): What kind of event are you planning? Business meeting? Did you decide to get a job?

      Sanek and Yura look at their mother with a disapproving, reproachful look, but they are silent.

      Mom understands their look and shakes her head.

      MOTHER (disappointed): Well yes… What am I, really? What kind of work in thirty-six years. Small yet. (Sanku) And it's probably too late for you, Sasha. (Resignedly, continuing cleaning) Never mind, we'll hang out sometime. I understand everything, these are difficult times, the employer is deceiving at every step. (Son) You'd better be at home, so it will be safer, and calmer. I've got a pension for a thousand dollars, and I've taken some home-sewing work. It's normal, why complain, a lot of people live worse.

      The mother finishes cleaning up after her son, goes to the kitchen.

      SANEK (admiringly): You have a great mother. Here is my me constantly shpynyaet – go work, go work. I may be about to turn forty, but you can't just take me. Spend priceless years of your life sitting in depressing warehouses, production halls, or dusty offices? I didn't find myself in a dumpster. It is necessary to live brightly, easily, naturally! It's so easy. Is it really that hard to understand? After all, our old people should be wise, and they are some kind of stupid on the contrary.

      Yura looks reproachfully at his friend.

      SANEK (making excuses): well… it doesn't apply to your mother, but in General… some generation of fools seems to have grown up in the post-war years. Well, it's understandable, in General, it was hard, it was necessary to raise the country! Education and self-development was not at all in the first so to speak needs…

      YURA (turning the topic): Okay, no more demagoguery. What was there, how it was there. We met СКАЧАТЬ