I have a strong childhood memory of Poland.
For some reason, when I was very little, I didn't like shitting. It was completely inexplicable nonsense. I could endure it for two, three, four days, and then, with great difficulty, overcoming constipation, I threw all these things out.
Then one day I put up with f****** puck. My stomach was incredibly swollen, but for some reason I didn't tell my parents about it. I was terribly ashamed and uncomfortable.
I myself am from Kaliningrad. And my mother, who was engaged in buying and selling all kinds of stationery and other such things, decided to go to the Polish market to buy goods. Well, she took me with her, for company. In Kaliningrad, a trip to Poland is basically like going to a neighboring village.
We drove without any problems, we arrived in Poland and then, finally, I understood - everything is screwed up. Now everything will happen.
And everything happened.
It was a huge pile. The toilet had a shelf, so the fruits of my labor were fully visible. This piece of s*** rose above the toilet. Neither before nor after, as an adult, was I capable of this. I will remember this s*** for the rest of my life.
That's why Poland holds a special place in my heart.
After all, the worst s*** of my life was in Poland.