Baby Bear goes downstairs and 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.
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 Christ’s sake, how many times do we have to go through this with
you idiots? 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 friggin 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-asses 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 (ZB) PORRIDGE YET!!”
just a small one 
mrs mix
