Bakery 19 hours.
A single, an amnesiac (or naive) soared last resort, a child and his mother.
The child is small, bright eyes, short hair and a knapsack on his back: the request? A snack of chocolate. A Kinder.
Moreover, if this gentleman with his coat, glasses and temples grizzled, buy a chocolate bar at seven in the evening, because I can not have it too??
The answer is dry: no! The boy did not bat an eyelid and contrary to what I think, is not fussy.
A grimace of disappointment in silence and without much conviction snuffed while mom buy bread and milk.
While everyone is focused on what to do, he, with a clever move, it close to the exhibitor, took the finger and sticks it in his jacket sleeve.
I look at him, he turns around and cross my eyes. He's afraid of my reaction that invariably surprises me and surprises him.
smile and so does he. Now the small bakery in a hurry to get out and when the mother is charged, he opens the door and runs out while the woman invites him not to run.
Esco and little Robin Hood is now far away.
This time you've escaped, Robin. I did not feel right to set off an uproar for fifty cents a finger.
Moreover, in this country where rogues are the masters, we must also start on the right foot?
Or not?
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