Slava Brodsky - Funny Children's Stories

It was raining all day today. I came home from school and decided to do all of my homework first. But when I was finished with everything, it was still raining. You do not go to the yard in the rain. Though you could try and find someone on the staircase. But it is pretty boring on the staircase. There they either torture cats, fire up smokers, or hang candles.

Well, I cannot stand cats. But chasing them around the stairs is not for me. They do cause a lot of harm, of course. On the stairs, it always stinks of cat urine.

Well, actually, that is what everyone says. But I think that it is not only cat urine that stinks. It is very possible that drunks go to our staircase. That is why it stinks of urine.

As for a smoker, it is a very scary thing. You make it out of ordinary old photo film. You only need to shove this photo film deep into something where there is no air.

Then you need to set it on fire and then immediately put the fire out. It starts to make a lot of smoke. And it makes so much smoke that the smoker begins to fly. It hits the walls and flies up to the ceiling while still making a lot of smoke. The smell is nauseating. And because of the smell, I do not like to have anything to do with smokers.

But I did hang candles on our stairs. Although once I learned how to do it, it was no longer that interesting. In any case, it is a pity to ruin the stairs without any reason.

But in the beginning, I could not even imagine how it was possible to hang up a candle. I did not even think that I would be able to do it.

But everything turned out to be very simple. You need to spit on the wall. Then you have to scrape the wall at the place where you spit, using the other end of the wooden match. If you do it carefully and turn the match, lime from the wall, mixed with your saliva, forms gradually a sticky lump at the end of the match. After that you only need to light your match and throw it up to the ceiling.

We are so good at this that the match sticks to the ceiling on the first try. And the match still continues to burn. And a black stain appears on the ceiling. On a rainy evening our boys can smoke up all the ceilings along all our staircases.

And adults are always very unhappy about it. They call the police. And they try to catch the ones who do it. And those who do not have children are angry with those who do. But it is all for nothing because it is practically impossible to catch anyone.

However, adults and the police still try to catch us. But they cannot. It would be much easier for them to catch the drunks. But they do not bother. Probably because there are too many drunks. And if all of them were caught, there would not be anyone left.

There is much more harm from drunks than from us. Because it is very difficult to find where our candles hang. And when can you actually see them? Maybe only on Sunday. You cannot see them on weekdays. Because in the daytime, when it is light out, everyone is either at school or at work.* In the morning and in the evening, it is always dark on the stairs. It is very rare that even a single bulb is actually lit.

And when I have to go home, I like for someone else to go inside the hallway as well. Because it is very scary to go alone in the hallway when it is dark.

And if I have to go alone, I never walk, I run. Even as I am running up the stairs, I am still scared that someone will grab me from behind. And I always have chills running down my spine.

And when I ring the doorbell three times and my mom opens the door for me, she certainly realizes that I ran up the stairs. And she always asks, “Who was chasing you?”

And as I was thinking about all of this today, my mom finally came home and asked, “Did you spend the whole day, just sitting here like this?” And I said, “Yes, I sat at home all day.” Mom asked me whether I had had things to do. And I answered that of course I had had things to do.

Whenever my mom asks me that, I recall something that happened once, when I was probably only about six years old. I told Mom that I was bored and that I did not know what to do. And Mom answered that she would book a symphony orchestra.

I did not ask what a symphony orchestra is, I guess because I already knew what it is. But I did ask Mom why she was going to book it.

And Mom replied that she was kidding about the symphony orchestra to make me understand that I was a big boy already and should be able to make things up to engage myself. Especially because there were a lot of different ways to find something to do.

I was very surprised to hear that and asked Mom what she was talking about. And my mom said that she would only explain each thing once and then I would have to make things up on my own.

My mom showed me a few books that I could read. She said that I could draw a table, chairs, and the other objects in our room and also portraits of Dad and all of my friends. As well as the tram, trucks, and our house. And then I started to tell Mom about what else I could draw.

Mom explained to me that everything I drew, I could then cut out with scissors. And she showed me how to fold a piece of paper a few times and then cut it to create beautiful snowflakes.

She also showed me how to place a piece of paper over a five-kopeck coin and go over it with a pencil to make an exact replica of that coin. And then, she said, I could cut this replica out with scissors. And I added that I could make many of these replica-coins and play Supermarket.

When Mom finished explaining all of that to me, I understood that I would never tell her again that I was bored and that I had nothing to do. So today, I was even surprised that Mom asked me whether I had had anything to do. And when I replied that I had had something to do, Mom said that the rain had stopped and that I could go out into the yard. “Just don’t hang out on the staircase,” said Mom.

I quickly swallowed a tablespoon of cod-liver oil, took a bite of rye bread with salt, put on my jacket, and ran down the stairs.

And I decided that today I would not hang out on the staircase. Even though two hours ago, I put a box of matches in the pocket of my pants. For no reason. Just in case.

The Old Woman and the Cart

My mom and I went to GUM last week.* And while we were there, we stood in line for ice cream. Because the kind of ice cream they sell in GUM cannot be found anywhere else in the world. At first, the line for ice-cream went pretty quickly, but then they ran out of ice cream. And the old woman who was selling it took her empty cart to get a refill.

The old woman left, but everyone stayed in line, waiting. After about fifteen minutes, everyone began to wonder what was taking the girl so long. And I asked Mom why everyone called the old woman a girl. And Mom said that the old woman was not really that old. And if you took the kerchief off her head, she would turn out to be pretty young.

Here the old woman showed up with her cart. And everyone began to wonder how much ice cream she had. A man in a military uniform said to someone with confidence that the ice cream would end just before this person. And after that, everyone immediately calmed down.

But it soon became very clear that the ice cream would end even earlier than the military man thought. Because many bought not just one ice cream but two. And those who stood at the end of the line started to yell that only one ice cream should be sold per person.

But they were yelling without any confidence, only to yell, just out of habit. Those at the end of the line always yell. That was why no one thought to listen. So many bought two ice creams. But when someone wanted to buy four ice creams, the line just blew up.

And everyone started to yell that four ice creams should not be sold to one person. And the man who wanted to buy four ice creams asked everyone, “Why not?” And the military man answered him, “If you are told that you must not, then you must not!”