Extrait du livre Gudule's crazy evening
Gudule's crazy evening by Fanny Joly and Roser Capdevila French to English translation: Natalie Worden Fanny Joly Numérik
Gudule's crazy evening
My name is Gudule. I’ve got an awesome ballerina tutu, a toy monster from outer space, and the coolest collection of three hundred and seventeen empty yogurt cups stacked up in the form of a pyramid.
My mommy is really nice a lot of the time. And my daddy knows how to wiggle his ears. Everything was going just fine for me when suddenly my parents got a crazy idea: they decided to make a baby. It’s my little brother. His name is Gaston. Mommy says he’s her Bugaloo And Daddy calls him his Nugget. I don’t need to call him at all–he follows me everywhere!
Usually it’s fine, I have time to take care of him. I teach him lots of important things. I do his hair, and his makeup, and I show him how good I draw, and how good I dance, and how great my handstands are… But I can’t spend all of my time with him– I’ve got things to do!
You know what? The other day, I was busy blowing bubbles behind the curtain in the living room when I saw Mommy walk by with her arms filled with things. I stuck my gum in the corner and got out of my hiding spot. Mommy was already setting the table with a pretty tablecloth, and nice glasses, and fancy candles. “You know, it’s not my birthday!” I told her.
Well, I shouldn’t have said it so loud. As soon as he heard the word “birthday,” my little brother cried out, “My birfday! Isss my birfday!” “Oh, Bugaloo!” Mommy said. “It’s nobody’s birthday, we’re just having guests for dinner.” “Guests? Who’s coming over? And what are we eating?” I asked.
“My birfday! Issss my birfday!” Gaston howled. “Don’t cry, sweetheart, your birthday will be here next year.” “My birfday! Issss my birfday!” (When my brother gets going, it is impossible to stop him). Mommy took a deep breath and turned to me. “Gudule, I need to make dinner. Can you please play with Gaston for a while?”