Bedtime Story
Baby Bear goes downstairs and sits in his small chair at the big table, and
looks into his small bowl. It is empty. "Who's been eating my porridge?", he
squeaks.
Papa Bear arrives at the big table and sits in his big chair. He looks into
his big bowl, and it is also empty. "Who's been eating my Porridge?!," he
roars.
Momma Bear puts her head through the serving hatch from the kitchen and
yells, "For God's sake, how many times do we have to go through this? It was
Momma Bear who got up first, it was Momma Bear who woke everyone in the
house, it was Momma Bear who made the coffee, it was Momma Bear who unloaded
the dishwasher from last night, and put everything away, it was Momma Bear
who went out in the cold early morning air to fetch the newspaper, it was
Momma Bear who set the table, it was Momma Bear who put the cat out, cleaned
the litter box, and filled the cat's water and food dish, and, now that
you've decided to drag your sorry bear-butts downstairs, and grace Momma
Bear's kitchen with your grumpy presence, listen good, cause I'm only going
to say this one more time . . .
"I HAVEN'T MADE THE DAMN PORRIDGE YET"
