Brother Bear and I have an ongoing game of sorts. It all started with a gag about 2 years ago on my Brother Bear. You see, my Brother Bear hates snakes. And my parents had found a real live snake in the bedroom (specifically, under the hide-away bed) that he and his wife would be residing in during Christmas. Needless to say, my Brother Bear was less than pleased about his impending sleeping arrangements.
So, I did what any good little sister bear would do. No, I did not offer to trade sleeping quarters. Instead, I bought a package of fake snakes at the Dollar Store and hid 'em all over the house. Focusing a significant portion of my hiding efforts in or around the bed.
May I insert here that I recognize the fact that I've been living on borrowed time ever since?
Anyhoo. Brother Bear got in on the action and it was lots of fun. For us at least.
Somehow, a few of the fake snakes made it home with us. And since that time, Brother Bear and I have delighted in placing these fake rubber snakes in hidden spots for the other one to find. He's especially good at it. I crawled into the bed one evening and my foot touched something and I screamed bloody murder and threw back the covers to find a fake snake staring back at me. Brother Bear considers this his crowning glory.
But now it seems the cub has decided to up his game. I headed to bed the other night and lost one year of my life when I discovered this:
(Yes, I do make up my bed everysinglemorningjustlikemymotherbeartaughtme. Why do you ask? And, no, I don't think that bed looks recently napped in. Why? Ahem.)
That little bugger.
That.is.awesome.
ReplyDelete