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Patrick, in his fifties, is a maternal assistant. The kids in the neighborhood have fondly dubbed him Super Nounou because he's as friendly as benevolent, funny and cautious. A pearl somehow ... Will it be up to this morning to reassure Sam's mom?
- Ding dong. It's for me a second alarm clock that rings. I am quiet as I walk towards the door, I revised my interior: the rutile playroom, the little train has new batteries. To both of us, Sam!
- Sam is always the first. And on the carpet, it's not the last. But when 9 months of curiosity face 80 kg of trade, the game is balanced.
- Come in ! In the arms of Jeanne, her mother, Sam does the one who does not see me. But I'm not fooled ... We exchange the ritual bonjours. Jeanne has drawn features. Afraid of being late, bad night ... It's a morning of sorrow, with a crumpled paper heart. My eyes catch on Sam's eyes. He extends his arm towards me and his forefinger tries to pin me.
- "Pati!"
- "Yes, it's Patrick, Sam." You look good, say, remember where's the carpet?
- Like a miniature karate kid, Sam slits the air out of his arm and points to the playroom with authority. I open my hands to pick him, he comes like a flower. I give him my slide show of grimaces. Sam smiled in gusts. I know that Jeanne feeds on those smiles on my back. I turn around ... Indeed, his heart was wrinkled.
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