— This is granddad's aluminum spoon; he cut the hole himself in order to let soap bubbles through when my brother Dima was still small. He did it with some kind of saw, I'm not sure what it's called – I didn't even understand why he had done it (...) This is his favourite spoon, it's the only one like it we have, not tin but aluminum. The rest of it is completely ordinary, mum had decided a long time ago to chuck it out, but Dima loved it. I don't know, if he'd broken another spoon, maybe my mum would've told him off, but this one, maybe it was easier to cut, I don't know (...) Anyway, it was interesting for him. There were always tools lying in a special box in the corridor, he always kept it tidy, was very careful with it like. He always yelled at us if we took something and then put it back in the wrong place. But mum was in charge, at the helm, our mum's that kind of woman... She's a theatre director, well, not actually in a theatre, she, like, she worked with kids, it was her own thing. But well, like, anyway, she's a talented person. She told him fairy tales, growled, barked, mewed, made strange faces, and he laughed and, of course, ate with pleasure, it was easy to feed him (...) But other times, there was nothing doing, it dragged on for hours, everyone was fed up. Grandpa came in, we lived with him like, he came in with some mug and banged on it with a spoon, and started stirring stuff in there. This immediately attracted the kid's attention. He stirred and stirred, then pulled out the spoon and started blowing soap bubbles. Then little Dima was taken aback, he'd never seen any cutlery like that before.