My collection of teddy bears and various stuffed softy ones are legendary. Their stories are stuffing that legends are made of. Here is one of their beary tales:
It was a quiet and sleepy afternoon when Mummy-bear decided to take out her big sewing box. The bear rabble, curious as always, crowded around her on the sofa and wanted to know what she was doing.
'I'm mending Daddy's socks,' she answered, setting out her needles and assorted spools of thread.
'Why?' Davy Jones (DJ) asked, being his usual smarty-pants self. He had snuck Downstairs to have a 'sticky-beak' (nosy peek) while Morgan the Enforcer Bear was having his afternoon nap.
'His socks have holes in them.'
'Why?' DJ asked again.
'So that his big toe doesn't get stubbed by the shoe,' Mummy-bear said in a testy tone. DJ's cheekiness was starting to get annoying.
'Why?' DJ persisted.
'Enough "whys".' Mummy-bear gave DJ a firm tug on his stubby tail. 'Run along and play with the Upstairs bears.'
But in just a few minutes, a great clamour of raucous screeches, whiny cries and whooping calls came from Upstairs. 'Mummy, Mummy! Help! Save us!'
Mummy-bear put down her sewing in a hurry and rushed Upstairs to see what was happening. Somehow, naughty little DJ had made off with some of her sewing stuff and was busy creating havoc in the bedroom. Tommy Jones (TJ) was wailing and holding up a hurt paw from a needle prick injury. Casey Jones (CJ) was scampering about on the bed, dodging pins and needles being brandished by DJ the Dastardly Pirate. Ninja black bear Jimmy Jones (JJ) was shooting needles from a soda straw at Fatty Boy, who was by now looking like a furry pin-cushion.
'Get over here, you Bad Bears,' growled Morgan, trying to enforce peace and administer the Bad Paw to smack DJ and JJ.
'Just wait until your Daddy-bear comes home,' Mummy-bear scolded, picking up pins and needles from the bedroom floor before there were any more sore paws. 'It's going to be no cheesy Twisties for you bears tonight.'
At that potent threat, DJ subsided and sidled up to Mummy-bear, putting on his best "sucking-up" face. 'Don't be angry, Mummy - we're only playing.'
Mummy-bear shook her head and waved an admonishing finger. 'It won't work, DJ, you and JJ are still getting the Bad Paw from Morgan.'
She plucked the pins from poor Fatty's head, smoothed down his fur, gave CJ a "cush-cush" on the top of his head and TJ's hurt paw got a quick kiss. Subdued by the Bad Paw for now, DJ, JJ and the rest of the Upstairs bears settled down to watch the Disney channel as Mummy-bear returned to her sewing.
To her horror, she found that the Downstairs bears had been rummaging through the sewing box in her absence. The twins, Basil and Barney, had sewn themselves together and cheerfully told her they were now "Siamese Twins". Bastian had managed to cut open his right foot paw and was limping around, shedding stuffing as he went. Brend, with the help of Miso the calico cat, was flicking buttons off the sofa. Charlie Bear was carefully darning Daddy-bear's socks with multi-coloured threads.
Grumpy and Sunny Jim had gotten into the sewing ribbons and were busy bandaging each other into mini-mummies. The kittens, Smoky and Rexy were happily entangling themselves into the pile of ribbons, creating a hopeless mess of fur and fabric.
It took Mummy-bear the rest of the afternoon to clean up the chaos. Bastian's paw was stitched up, the twins were surgically separated, the kittens disentangled, Grumpy and Sunny duly unwrapped. Then everyone Downstairs was put to work helping Brend and Miso pick up the scattered buttons and sorting them back into their rightful spots in the sewing box.
By the time Daddy-bear returned from fishing, the Downstairs bears were quietly watching "Rurouni Kenshin"on DVD while the Upstairs bears were fast asleep. Mummy-bear handed him the socks mended by Charlie bear.
'What's this?' Daddy-bear winced at the clashing colours.
'Your bears were feeling creative today,' said Mummy-bear, a wry expression on her face. 'No more mending. You're getting new socks.'
With hooks, sinkers and spools of fishing line, I've got to keep my fishing tackle box locked when it is at home.
I once found a really small bandage bear in my collection of fishing lures with a 'stuffed toy' look on his face. I was seriously contemplating tying a hook on him and casting him out into my local lagoon to see if I'd get any 'bites' but I noticed tiny beads of sweat on his brow as well as a trembling lower lip. I figured that the lesson had been learnt.
Awww, what a cute tale, Jadeite. I quite enjoyed it.
Rex, I've no idea what a bandage bear is, but it did make me think of my own little bears that play in my Christmas tree. Tiny things, only 1/2 to an inch tall. Which made me think of the Cinnamon bear, a radio Christmas story, that use to get played in installments between Thanksgiving and Christmas eve. Of course THAT made me think of Christmases past while I was growing up (it was an annual treat that started in 1937 and continues through today) followed by even happier ones when my kids were small. Almost a whole morning of revelry...
