This is Bear Bear. He’s been in our lives for a while. About eight years, acutally. He belongs to a certain little nephew of mine. Bear Bear is a friendly fellow and has endeared himself to the hearts of many little cousins and siblings and even aunts, uncles and parents.
Last night, Gage came home with a terrible headache and went to bed in misery without the comfort of Bear Bear, who had gone missing.
During the night, a voilent storm blew through the area, a loud thunderclap sent me tearing out of bed to look out the window and check the radar. I peeked at the babies in their beds and noticed that Trux was clasping Bear Bear in his fists.
So this morning at breakfast I asked Gage if he missed Bear Bear last night.
“Did you know that Trux had him in his playpen?” I asked.
“No ma’am!” He answered, his eyes growing huge.
An hour later when I was in my room checking email Gage came in and asked if I thought it would be okay if he got Bear Bear now. Once he found the bear on the bed, he hugged it to his face and said under his breath as he was walking by Trux – “Was he cozy?”
I assumed that he was talking to Truxton, but then after he had left the room I heard him say (undoubtedly to his Bear Bear) “It’s okay if you sleep with him once in a while.”