This morning I was studying in the room, when at one point I heard a strange fart up from downstairs ... Mamy I call to ask if he knows something .. but she is cold and the smell did not even remotely heard ... And then, she says, are grandmothers out in the garden to enjoy the few rays of sun this morning, and there are only you and Pulcetta ...
Oh well ... back in the room but the smell explodes ... At one point I feel that ULRA mamy ... "Pulcettaaaa ... but what are you doing?"
go down the stairs covering my nose with the sleeve of her sweater ...
the room is empty, in the kitchen there are Mamy coughing from the smoke and Pulcetta who looks quizzically (the series, but you have to scream and cough, you might Sapé ??)...
"Mamy, which I'm smoking, Pulcetta, but have you done?"
"cooked the chumps Tattersall" (= pasta .. chumps in my zone for the kids is this simple equation!)
"but as you cooked the chumps? Mother stench ..."
I turn on the table lie the remains of those who were once colored wax ...
practically in two to three minutes for the Mamy took to bring some sweets she had done in the room and place them in a cupboard, Pulcetta has seen fit to prepare lunch ... took the colors (or pasta) put them in a drawer of a cardboard box in which bearer always plays ... covered with another tray, right in the microwave because it must cover all ... e poi ha spinto una sedia vicino al forno, l'ha aperto, c'ha messo dentro il tutto, ha chiuso.. ed ha caricato due minuti...
Chiaramente i colori si sono fusi... in casa si è sparso un fumo e un tanfo ai limiti della sopportazione... e lui era li, sulla sedia ad aspettare che suonasse il forno al termine della cottura... Ora, dico io...come dobbiamo fare noi con questa birba di Pulcetta???
Ne combina una al minuto, e ha solo quasi 20 mesi... non oso pensare tra poco cosa potrà succedere... Mon Dieu!!
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