From the author: Life stories. Now this family is celebrating its 25th anniversary. They are happy and unhappy in their own way. They have an only daughter who graduated from a university, works successfully, is independent and financially independent. Mom holds a high position, this is what she has been working towards all these 25 years. Dad found himself in design and construction. Each of them is successful and established. This story began 25 years ago. My aunt called me and, crying, with pain in her voice, said: “My son got married, I invite you to the wedding! How she cunningly tied him up! I let him go meet her parents, just get acquainted! And She arranged everything in the registry office in one day and they were registered. He didn't even have a suit! He left in jeans and a T-shirt, it was summer. She thought of everything, took the suit from somewhere, and dressed herself in a new dress. She's a predator, not a daughter-in-law! I imagined my son’s wedding differently. I prepared the script, gifts, and practical jokes. I thought of everything. Now let’s gather in a close family circle. Come!” she completed her monologue. I supported her excited speech. Aunt continued. “I ask him, is she pregnant? Why such a rush? He calms her down, says that no, she’s not pregnant, but why wait, there was a conversation about the wedding. Oh, I have a calf, a calf. I got stuck and now I can’t escape. Come to a home wedding, let’s sit and celebrate,” she ended the telephone conversation. A year later, a girl was born. The four of them began to live together. The young mother quickly went to work; it was difficult for two women to get along in the same kitchen. Another call and new details. “My granddaughter is 1.5 years old, and She is already going to work, saying that her position may be given to another employee. He's being cunning! She trusts me, she said so! That's good! We’ll see each other less,” she concluded the conversation with satisfaction. My aunt started raising her granddaughter. She passed on all her gaiety and cheerfulness to her growing granddaughter, sternly and closely watching her daughter-in-law. “Can you imagine, she doesn’t do everything right,” she told me when we met. I kindly and patiently show her how to do it, and she doesn’t mind, listens, and does everything her own way.” The young family lived its own life. We raised our daughter, worked, and began to think about changing the small apartment to a larger one. It was this news that my relative wanted to share with me. “What did my people think!” We decided to rent out the apartment, pay extra and buy a bigger one so that we wouldn’t feel cramped! Where does your son get the money? I found myself another job! But she works, but doesn’t bring home any money! He feeds, I cook, I look after my granddaughter, but she only goes to work. My son is building a dacha, it turns out to be such a beautiful house, he is a designer himself, a planner, a builder. I have a handy man, all like my late husband. And now he decided to build for others in order to buy a new apartment. I open my eyes to his wife, she works, but there is no money, and he answers: “Mom, don’t worry, everything is fine with us, we love each other!” My granddaughter grew up to be a wonderful girl. Her grandmother took her to dances, to vocal classes, and lived her school life. Together with my granddaughter, I wrote scripts for school holidays, assigned roles, and staged performances. In the summer, she went to an unfinished country house to take a break from her daughter-in-law. “My daughter-in-law and granddaughter went on vacation,” she once again complained. My son stayed, I need to earn money. It would be better if she brought home a salary, everything would be easier for him. I feel sorry for him, but he brushes it off: “I don’t like traveling and moving, I feel better here with you.” So I believed him, he feels sorry for me, he calms me down.” This is where our conversation ended with the traditional phrase: “And God gave my son punishment!” A new spacious apartment was built, everyone had a room. My aunt could relax in silence, read books, watch TV. The dacha was never completed; they decided to rebuild it into a residential building so that they could live in the winter. The beloved son took up the matter with gusto. I will say, looking ahead, the house turned out to be beautiful, with a “zest”. The unwanted daughter-in-law was promoted and got a personal driver. On