A son says to his mother, I am not going to school any more! Why, my son? You know, again Ivanov will hit me on the nose with a textbook, and Vasiliev will spit into my tea, and Petrov will shoot at me from his sling, and Kuznetsov will put a needle into my seat.... No, I'm not going! But you must, the mother said. First, you're grown-up, next month you'll be forty-two, and second, you're the school's principal after all!