Mutiny of the Little Sweeties

Half an hour later, when the pit had become much deeper and Alex was whining with disappointment because there was no smell of a volcanic eruption, a timid boy in blue shorts, which now and then slipped down, wandered over to them. Then the boy said, “Excuse me! I have a problem!” stopped and pulled up his shorts. Alena immediately dragged the boy into the pit-digging process.

Five minutes later, the boy in the shorts was already indistinguishable from the other seven children. Just as the others, he was running, jostling, and throwing sand out, and they yelled at him the same way when he knocked down the edge of the pit.

Mama even said to Papa that they could take the boy with them. The main thing was that he would wash the dishes after himself. Later as time went by, he would marry Rita. “He’s a rich heir, it would be foolish to let such a boy slip away! Even has his own bucket! And two shovels!” she said.

Mama had barely said it when out of nowhere a determined little woman in dark glasses ran up to her. Evidently, she had gotten sunburned the day before, because her shoulders were red with white stripes from a bathing suit. Her nose was also red and sticking out like a perky thumbtack.

“I heard everything!” she shouted.

“Pardon me?” Mama did not understand.

“You wanted to take my Paul with you and marry him to someone there!”

“It was a joke!” Mama was embarrassed.

“I understand that it’s a joke! But all the same, I want to say, also as a joke, of course, that children aren’t pieces of goods! A lot of children, it’s mass production! You understand it’s impossible to give each child enough attention!”

“Well, and where’s your piece of goods now? Socializing?” Mama asked.

The little woman turned in alarm. Her piece of goods was perfectly happy running among the children and did not want to go anywhere. He wanted to bury Peter, who had taken his bucket, in the sand.

“Come here! Paul! To whom am I talking? Come to me!” Paul did not budge, only pulled his head into his shoulders.

The woman turned beet red. “Not listening? To whom am I talking? Well!”

She leaned over, pulled her son by the hand out of the pit, and began to drag him. Paul resisted. Two trenches remained in the sand from his feet. Papa and Mama felt sorry for him, but they understood that if they got involved now, it would only be worse for Paul.

Sand continued to fly out of the pit after Paul’s departure, but no longer as energetically as before. The children were getting tired. Besides, they were sad that their wealthy heir with a bucket and two shovels had been taken away.

Peter was the first to get tired of digging. He remembered that he was already grown and that it was improper to engage in such nonsense. “Ah-h! The volcano is erupting!” he yelled and, throwing the board away, hastily began to climb out of the pit, which reached the middle of his chest.