I’m thinking how to answer so as not to burn myself and set myself up, but my mother interrupts:

- Okay, about that. When you see it, then you will tell. Now I'm interested. And now it’s better to explain when to pick you up from the station? Dad has business on Saturday, he won’t be able to meet. And you know what Schumacher I am. Drive twenty minutes, and I'll spend two hours behind the wheel and become the object of hatred of all drivers.

It's true. Our mom is still a scorcher. Dad even stopped drinking a glass on holidays only because he didn’t want to return home...