Romance about Immigration

liable. When a month later the young lady starts school, she has no problems with escort - two gentlemen are ready to fight tooth and nail with anyone who tries to lift a finger on the maiden of few words. Several times it is required. The owls are not what they once were, and also are not the same the immigrant schools. The kiddo got his first interpreter’s job few days after his sixth birthday. Of the only three Bulgarians from our school only he actually spoke Bulgarian in a way for the newcomer compatriot in grade Three-A to understand and stop crying.

Some time has lapsed. The maiden of few words from the opposite window has remained a maiden of few words but perfectly synchronises with my incessantly chatting heir. These two little ones are going back home from the park walking in front of me and the mother of the young lady. The two of us are dragging little buckets, little shovels and little vans, and are exchanging some girly gossip is her absolutely fabulous and my absolutely terrible French. Suddenly the two little creatures run from upstart position, holding hands. We the parents start with a high start because around the corner there is a boulevard and the little ones cannot be seen behind the parked cars. The two fugitives dutifully stop before the pedestrian crossing to wait for the breathless moms and watch innocent and somewhat uncomprehendingly. In fact, it is logical to not understand somewhat. One mom is yelling in pure Bulgarian, the other in pure Arabic, completely forgotten all French politesse. And those little ones, still holding hands, identically lift their little shoulders, look at each other, then burst out laughing. They still do it!

A single child is not a good idea. Especially if the child is a little immigrant and has no other relatives nearby. So the ambitious plans to conquer the country are postponed and I am doing the mandatory inspection of the local hospital a month before the onset of the second heir. Single person delivery rooms, teams on shifts, inscriptions "Only up to four adult companions may attend the birth and the children need to have a separate adult companion to supervise them at all times!". Unadulterated horror is written on my face at the prospect the midwife to need to elbow the five adults and unlimited number of children who can make the mother company. A kind nurse registers it as dissatisfaction with what I see and begins to apologize, "Oh, you are from Europe and you're probably accustomed to way more comfort, I understand you, but our hospital as scheduled next year for some repairs. It will be great when come to give birth next time with us, you will be blown away!" I clench my teeth behind my smiling lips and just nod, because I have just counted six different types of gloves - one box of each, and before my eyes had just passed the Plovdiv State Hospital, where the kind young nurse rolls single use gloves in gauze for sterilization. Of course, we from Europe are used