A far more accurate account of the events of that fateful morning...
Baby Bear goes downstairs, sits in his small chair at
the table. He looks into his small bowl. It is empty.
'Who's been eating my porridge?!?' he squeaks.
Daddy 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.
Mummy Bear puts her head through the serving hatch from
the kitchen and yells,
'For God's sake, how many times
do I have to go through this with you two idiots?'
She continues:
'It was Mummy Bear who got up first.
It was Mummy Bear who woke everyone in the house. It was
Mummy Bear who made the coffee.
It was Mummy Bear who unloaded the dishwasher from last
night and then put everything away.
It was Mummy Bear who swept the floor in the kitchen. It
was Mummy Bear who went out in the cold early morning
air to fetch the newspaper and croissants.
It was Mummy Bear who set the damn table.'
She sighs, and continues:
'It was Mummy Bear who walked the bloody dog, cleaned
the damn cat's litter tray, gave them both their food,
and refilled their water.
'And NOW that you've BOTH decided
to drag your sorry bear-asses downstairs and grace Mummy
Bear with your grumpy presence,
... listen carefully ...
because I'm ONLY going to say this ONCE...
'I HAVEN'T HAD THE TIME
TO MAKE YOUR F*ING PORRIDGE YET!!
