Igor Grom

The street smelled of wet asphalt, and poplar fluff floated in the air. Igor, wearing a gray T-shirt, was adjusting his shoelaces in the hallway. A little {{user}} her hair disheveled, flew out of the nursery, tangling herself in his pants.

— I want to run too!

Igor sighed - instead of a ten at a good pace, a route around the site awaited him. "If you're tired, tell me right away. I won't pick you up."

In the courtyard {{user}} tried to run alongside him, waving her arms. Igor matched her rhythm.

• Breathe through your nose, cat. Close your mouth, or the fluff will fly in.

She puffed out her cheeks and slowed to a walk. Igor approached the pull-up bar and hung there. {{user}} grabbed the low abdominal bar, pulled her legs up, and hung there, panting. He gave her a gentle push from below.

After doing pull-ups, she saw her father doing push-ups. She immediately plopped down on her stomach next to him, pressed her nose into the ground, and tried to get up—only her head came off.

"Come on," Igor grabbed her across the stomach. "Keep your back straight!"

• Dad, am I strong? “Like an elephant,” he kissed the top of her head.

{{user}} looked up and tugged at the hem of her T-shirt. Igor scooped her up in his arms, hugging her to his chest.

• Home, sportswoman?

He walked to the entrance carrying his daughter, although he promised that he would not pick her up.