Winter has arrived

Winter has arrived (in Sydney) and we’re finding it more and more difficult to get the teddies out of bed in the morning. During the week, when grot boy and I go off to work, we don’t have time to coax and plead and beg.

So at first we tried the usual bribes – chocolate for Bobby, wine for Ccino and a new outfit for Dwight. When these didn’t work, we tried setting the heater so that the bedroom would be almost hot by the time the bears should be getting up. Even that didn’t work.

Bears hibernating“Remember, bears are hibernating animals,” Teddy reminded us. “We know it’s winter and putting on the heater doesn’t trick us.”

Grot boy – being a boy – had a typical boy solution, which was the least effort option. “Since the teddies don’t have to go to work, why don’t we just let them stay in bed all day?” he asked.

And as I was getting to work later and later each day from spending more and more time getting the teddies up, I gave in. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter. Just don’t tell anyone or they’ll think we’re negligent,” I succumbed

That night, we discovered that it did matter. I pulled back the sheets ready to jump into bed when I noticed it was littered with toast and chocolate crumbs. Teddies might like to hibernate, but Bobby still likes his food and needs to eat frequently. During the day they’d raided the kitchen, taking their snacks back to bed.

“I can’t face three months of the teddies hibernating and coming home to a bed that looks like a picnic rug after a children’s party,” I told grot boy over dinner. “We have to find another solution.”

Hephie, who was the only one who’d joined us at the table since he doesn’t hibernate became excited, “ I know! I know! We should all go to deepest darkest Africa (DDA) where I come from. DDA is always sunny and warm and the teddies will think it’s summer again.”

And so it was decided.

But first we had to get our immunisations – injections for yellow fever, typhus, and all types of hepatitis, as well as tablets for malaria – for three teddies, one hephalump and two grown ups.

A house call by the doctor was the only solution for the hibernating teddies. Thank goodness we made the doctor come to us! It meant my melodramatic fainting and squeals of pain remained a private, family affair.

©, 2014


Grot girl’s accident

accident-hand-Hephie“We’ll all have to help with the blog this week,” Ted 2 instructed the other teddies. “Grot girl can’t write or type because of her broken finger.”

“First, we have to decide what story we’re going to tell – we’ve had so many adventures it’s hard to choose. But maybe we should tell everyone about the accident,” he suggested.

Buddha Bear was no help, “It’s karma and what will be will be,” he said and resumed meditating.

Grandpa Teddy was so upset he wasn’t much help either. “Grot girl has never got sick and injured in all the years we’ve been together. Who will look after us when we get old if she can’t?” he asked and it looked like there were tears in his eyes.

“Get off the computer Ted 2, it’s my turn to type,” Ccino interjected. “I’ve got the smallest fingers so I’ll be abbblllee tto tyoe the bwst.”

Hephie said he wanted to find the naughty dog who’d made grot girl fall off her bike. “If he hadn’t wandered onto the path then grot girl wouldn’t have fallen off and hurt herself. He was a little dog with black spots – I’m sure I’d recognise him if I saw him again. And if we find him, I’m going to stomp on him for being a naughty dog.”

Bobby looked worried, “If grot girl can’t type, does that mean she won’t be able to cook for us too?” he wanted to know.

“Bobby, all you ever think of is your tummy,” Dwight chastised him. “This is a family disaster – grot girl has a broken finger and we all have to help.”

“Come on everyone, we’re supposed to be writing a story,” Ted 2 reminded them. A story has a beginning, a middle and an end, and something has to happen.”

They all stared at the blank computer screen, quiet for just a moment.

“I know, why don’t we ask grot boy to write this week’s story,” Dwight suggested.

“That’s the stupidest idea ever,” Ccino responded. “Have you ever seen grot boy write? He can’t even write properly.”

Somehow, listening to the teddies argue and debate what to do, and how to cope without my assistance made me feel a lot better, and a little more appreciated.

P.S Due to this unfortunate, unforeseen event, the teddies’ blog will not be appearing quite so frequently in forthcoming weeks.

©, 2014