Once upon a time there lived a husband and wife. My husband's name was Khoma. It still seems to Homa that it’s easy for his wife to manage the household at home, warm and under a roof. And all day long he either plows or chops wood. He says to his wife:
“That’s it, wife, now you go and plow, and I can handle the housework.”
The wife responded:
“I’ll go, just do all the household chores before I come: heat the oven, milk the cows, bake the bread and sweep up the barley.” Here is sour cream - churn the butter, release the chickens, and make sure that the kite doesn’t carry away the chickens, feed the pig... And watch the child so that he doesn’t cry.
And she went into the field to plow. She knows she's working hard. Khoma began to take charge, but he himself thought: “She left me a lot of work, what should I take on in order to get everything done?” He lit the stove and milked the cow. He looks, a lot of time has passed, the sun is already high. Let's knead the dough quickly. I took the kneading pot from the stove and put it on the bench - then I remembered about the chickens. He ran to the barn, let the chickens into the hut, poured in the grain, and left the doors open. When should you churn the butter and grind the barley? Khoma came up with an idea: he put the pot of sour cream in his pouch. While the grain is being ground, the butter will form on its own. Then the baby in the cradle began to cry. He pumps it. And then he tied a rope - one end to the cradle, the other - to his leg and went into the hallway to grind grain on a hand millstone. He turns the millstone, rocks the cradle with his foot, and the oil churns in the pouch on his back. Everything seems fine. Suddenly the chickens clucked in the hut and the child screamed. Khoma rushed into the hut, tripped over the threshold, fell and spilled all the sour cream on himself. The rope caught on his leg, he pulled it - the cradle turned over, the child fell to the floor, hurt himself and was crying more than ever. Khoma was completely confused. And it was the piglet who caused all the commotion in the hut. He ran through the open door, knocked the kneading bowl off the bench, the chickens got scared, jumped into the oven, and burned in the oven on hot coals. Khoma grabbed the child, lulled him to sleep, and he was covered in sour cream. The rest of the children ran to the corners, in all directions.
“Whoa, whoa, howl,” Khoma laments, “what have I done?” How will I show myself to my wife: I hurt the child, spilled the sour cream, didn’t grind the barley, the chickens burned, the pig ate the dough! What should I, the unfortunate one, do? And my wife is about to come to dinner!
I looked out the window: my father-in-law was coming, already in the yard! He quickly goes to bed and punishes the children:
- Tell grandfather that father and mother have gone to the field to plow.
Grandfather came, the children told him so, as their father ordered. Grandfather gives gifts to everyone:
- This is for you, this is for you, give this to your mother, and give this to your father. Khoma wants to see what his father-in-law brought him, and he’s also afraid that what if his children eat his gift? He fidgeted and fidgeted on the bed and fell out of there. Father in law says:
- Whoa, howl, howl, Khoma-son-in-law, what’s wrong with you?
“Oh, dear father-in-law, don’t ask: I stayed at home as my mistress, but I did everything wrong,” and he tells his father-in-law what he did.
- And I came, son-in-law, to invite you to the wedding!
“Well, since you’ve come, you have to go.” “Run for your mother,” he says to his eldest son.
The landlady comes from the field and asks:
-Where is lunch?
- Oh, wifey, you’re still asking about lunch! Everything is wrong with me: I hurt my child, the chickens burned, the pig ate the dough, I spilled the sour cream... What can I say - I won’t stay in charge of the housewife anymore, you’ll be the boss yourself.
- So I knew that nothing would work out for you!
- And the priest came to invite us to the wedding, we must go! - Khoma has already forgotten about all his misfortunes.
They cleaned it up somehow and went to the wedding. And there are just more guests arriving, the wedding is scheduled for tomorrow. And today is Saturday - we need to heat the bathhouse, but there is no wood. They ask:
- Who will go to the forest for firewood? Khoma is the first to shout:
- I am!
Well, they gave him a good horse, he took an ax and rode off. I chose a thicker and longer tree in the forest and started cutting it down. He thinks: in which direction should he be thrown? I thought and thought and decided to fall the tree directly onto the arc - it would be easier to pile it on the cart. He baled and baled for half a day, and finally felled the tree. It fell on an arc, and the horse’s legs moved apart, and she was no longer breathing.
- What have I done again!
Sit down on a stump and let's cry. I cried until the evening. And at home they’ve already heated up the bathhouse, steamed, washed, and they say:
— Why has Khoma’s son-in-law been gone for a long time?
Let's go look. They come to the forest, and he sits on a stump, bursting into tears.
- Why are you crying? - they ask him.
He can't say a word, he just sobs.
- Stop it, let's go home!
They put him on a cart and drove him away. We arrived home. The wedding is already in full swing. The sheep was slaughtered. We should cook some meat for the guests.
-Who will cook the meat?
Khoma jumped out again before everyone else:
- I'll cook!
- Well, cook.
He cooked the meat in the yard in a large cauldron, headed towards the house, and the dogs surrounded him and barked. He threw them one piece, the second - so he scattered all the meat, and the dogs kept barking. He threw out the soup for them: “Here, eat, just get rid of me!” And he came home with an empty cauldron.
“Have you already cooked the meat, son-in-law Khoma?” Where is it?
- Don’t ask - the dogs attacked me and barked, so I fed them all the meat, and in the end I threw out the soup!
- Whoa, whoa, howl, son-in-law Khoma, what have you done again! What will we treat our guests to?
They sat him down on a mop of sedge in the garden and said:
- Sit here and don’t come to the hut!
But Khome doesn’t sit still, he comes to the hut, sits on a bench among the guests, as if nothing had happened. The owner says:
- Who will go for kvass? There is a barrel in the barn. Khoma is right there:
- I'll go!
- Well, if you’re going, then go. Here's a bucket.
Khoma took a bucket, went to the barn, pulled out the plug, kvass flowed into the bucket. The dogs barked at him again, and he threw the plug at them! The kvass is already overflowing, but there is nothing to stop the barrel. What to do? Khoma stuck his finger into the hole and plugged the barrel. He stands there, waiting for them to come for him. The finger is swollen, even shout out to the guard! And the owner is waiting for Khoma to bring kvass for the guests. They waited and waited and finally went after him. They come, and Khoma stands by the barrel and dances: he can’t pull out his finger. I had to break the barrel. They say to Khome:
- Don’t show your face in the hut again! We've had enough of your nonsense!
Khoma climbed onto the roof and looked into the vent to see what was going on at the wedding.
And the vent was large, all the edges were covered in thick soot, and Khoma, along with the flakes of soot, fell from the ceiling. He got the bride and all the guests dirty.
- Oh, son-in-law Khoma, what else did you come up with, you ruined the whole wedding!
Again they sat him down on the sedge and said:
- So that he doesn’t move from his place again! Khoma climbed into the hay and fell asleep—the poor fellow was tired.
The guests arrived late and began to leave them overnight. The blind old woman went to fill the bed with hay and did not notice how Khoma slowly climbed into the bed. They made beds for the guests on the floor and they lay down side by side to sleep. And Khoma pinches one, then kicks the other.
The guests think that one of them is playing pranks in the dark, and they begin to blame each other.
One says:
-Why are you kicking? Another says:
- No, you kicked it!
They started looking at the beds, ripped open the bedding, and there was Khoma. The father says to his daughter:
- Take your Khoma home quickly if you want him to stay alive!
They put Khoma on the cart, drove him home, and the guests went home.
This was the end of the wedding, and this was the end of the fairy tale.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru