I was on duty when my cell phone rang. My wife called. It's strange — she usually sleeps with the kids for a long time at this time (it was close to two in the morning).
On the phone, a frightened Natasha whispered, through sobs, asked to come home urgently, as the twins were behaving, to put it mildly, inadequately (the kids are 6 years old). I couldn't really explain anything, but I started crying harder. I had to take off from work, ask the shift worker to cover up for the boss and drive in the middle of the night to the other side of the city.
Natasha was met at the entrance in a bathrobe and barefoot. With sobs, she threw herself on her neck, barely agreed to offers to enter the apartment. When asked to explain what was going on, she burst into tears and started pointing at the children's room.
I went to the kids, but she didn't follow me. The children were in the room, they were happy to see me, but when I asked them what had happened, they didn't answer anything intelligible either, they just said that my mother was scared by the grandmother who climbed out of the window. I asked what kind of grandmother she was and why her mother was afraid of her. The son replied, saying that mom came in and didn't greet Grandma, but we wanted to introduce them; grandma held out her hand to mom, and she ran away...
"And where is this old lady now?" I asked, perplexed.
"Over there, right above you." Dad, how funny you are, raise your head — she'll say hello to you!
I raised my head, not knowing what I was doing. There was a shadow on the ceiling. I quickly realized that she just had nowhere to go. He grabbed the children and ran out of the apartment on the verge of hysteria. My wife jumped out after me, and we drove to my parents' house in the middle of the night.
Natasha still hasn't told me what happened that night. But she refused to go home until the priest was brought. Our children still remember that we offended our grandmother, and she was funny, she even knew how to run around walls.
.jfif)
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