Friday, December 17, 2010

More Roman and Andrei Stories

As a small boy Roman's summer costume consisted of sleeveless undershirt, undershorts and rubber boots.  He never met a mud puddle he didn't like.  Andrei NEVER walked into a puddle.  Andrei was scrupulously clean, scrupulously neat (still is).  He could sometimes drive his mother crazy.  When he started school, he ironed his own pants every morning before he left for school.  Roman used this to good advantage as when Andrei thought he had a pounding coming, Roman would stand in the middle of a puddle until Andrei went away.

Tanya's family lived in a duplex that shared a common attic.  When Roman was four, he appeared at the attic window with the neighbour's rifle, which Tanya had no idea was stored there. Tanya told Roman to listen very carefully and she would tell him a fairy story that he had never heard before.  (Obviously it wasn't going to be Peter and the Wolf)  She spun quite the yarn, I guess, out of desperation as she slowly made her way up the stairs to the attic so she could take the rifle.

Andrei was supposed to look after Roman in the morning after Tanya went to work and then drop him at Tanya's Babushka's house in his way to school.  One morning, he watched from the street as Roman went into Babushka's yard and closed the gate, then he continued on to school.  Roman watched him leave then scooted over to a friends place to play for the day.  Babushka thought maybe Tanya had stayed home when Roman never showed up.  That evening, the police finally found Roman.

Andrei looked after his toys.  They would be clean and neatly lined up at night, like any good trucker would look after his rig.  Roman's toys rarely lasted more than an hour before he took them apart to see how they worked.  This was frustrating enough but one day he took his mother's vacuum cleaner apart.  Putting it together was not his strong point.  The loose parts were simple tucked inside and the unit closed.


  1. Oh my. Roman and a rifle. Now that is scary!!

  2. Our kids used to love to ask Grandma for stories from when I was a little boy. She had way too good of a memory.

  3. I have a few stories about my kids but the good ones only a mother can tell.

  4. Ha! Just getting to read these now. Somehow, having finally met Roman too, these stories make so much sense.


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