“Daddy, what’s a fascist?”
Damn, that’s all I need.
“That’s a bad guy,” I grumbled just to extricate myself.
“Daddy, are you a bad guy?”
“No, Andriyko, I’m a very good guy... What kind of a guy am I for you? I’m a dad! A really good dad! See, I brought you a baby rabbit.”
I didn’t notice that I had raised my voice again, and the little guy’s face grew sour, his lips pouting—ready to cry.
“Andriyko, your dad’s good, isn’t he? Don’t be angry at your dad. Your mom and I have had a little tiff, and now we’ll make up. And then your daddy’ll cook the she-rab... the rabbit, and we’ll eat him up.”
“Then why did Mommy say she won’t eat her?”
“Her? Who’s her?”
“The she-rabbit.”
Lord...
“Mommy was kidding. Daddy will go now to apologize to Mommy.”
6
Khrystia was sitting on a couch with h
