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Baby attacks Gudule

Baby attacks Gudule

6-8 ans - 24 pages, 1302 mots | 11 minutes de lecture | © Fanny Joly Numérik, 2022, pour la 1ère édition - tous droits réservés


Baby attacks Gudule

6-8 ans - 11 minutes

Baby attacks Gudule

My name is Gudule And I have experienced something extraordinary. I had a baby. A real one! He is my little brother, his name is Gaston. When I knew he was going to be born, I was a little scared. But in my heart, I knew that this baby would make me happy. I was going to feed him, raise him. But when he came home, he was just sleeping. Until the day he woke up. Then our life changed!

This book is also available in French: Bébé attaque Gudule.

"Baby attacks Gudule" vous est proposé à la lecture version illustrée, ou à écouter en version audio racontée par des conteurs et conteuses. En bonus, grâce à notre module de lecture, nous vous proposons pour cette histoire comme pour l’ensemble des contes et histoires une aide à la lecture ainsi que des outils pour une version adaptée aux enfants dyslexiques.
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Extrait du livre Baby attacks Gudule

Baby attacks Gudule by Fanny Joly and Roser Capdevila French to English translation: Natalie Worden Fanny Joly Numérik


Baby attacks Gudule
My name is Gudule. I have the same flower pants as my mommy. She’s the one who sewed them. She is very good at sewing. And my daddy, he’s really nice. He blows the biggest bubbles with his chewing gum! He goes to the office, too. He works in a bank.
You know what? Something crazy happened to me last winter. I got a baby. A real one! It’s my little brother. His name is Gaston.
When Mommy and Daddy told me a baby was coming, I was scared at first. Some classmates who don’t know any better, like that pest Mary-Ann, told me babies are really annoying. She said that they throw up, and that they never stop crying, and all that… But I knew, deep down, that this baby would make me so happy. I knew I would feed him and teach him to be someone amazing. Kind of like me, but a boy.
Even before the baby came, I thought about all the things we would do together. I pictured us playing house, with both of us in the kitchen. I would be the cook, of course. He would be the pot roast. And we would go on explorations. I would be the princess of the desert. He would be a mummy. And we would dance together. I would be the ballerina, and he would be the person who shines the spotlights on me.
When Gaston came home, he was all red, and all wrinkled, and his hair was all sticky… But you know what worried me the most? He was really well-behaved. SO well-behaved. Mommy said, “What a good little boy he is!” And I thought, What a boring little boy he is! All day and all night, he just slept, and slept, and slept. With his little fists curled up on his pillow, he looked like a slug on a log.
But sometimes he was awake. Especially when it was time for his bottle. He sure lapped those up! Like a little cat. So cute. One day, he made a silly face at me. I thought he wanted to play astronauts lost in space. But no. After two minutes, he fell over like a pile of dish towels. Mommy put him back in his crib. Time to go night night.