Little bear didn't get up at 6am this monring. It must have lulled my body clock into a false sense of security and it sank deeper into sleep. So I was dazed and stunned when at 7.05 little bear hurtled downstairs and yelled, 'I want to go to the party!!!'
'What party?' I said, bewildered.
'The party in my dream!'
'It's just a dream.'
'Waaaaah!'
'What?' I wasn't really up to this.
'All the cakes have gone. I wanted a cake!' Darling father had bought a pack of cherry bakewells and little bear was very keen on them.
'No, Grandad just put them somewhere safe,' I said, still not fully awake. I picked up the pack, they all fell out, I picked them up (still half asleep) and then handed one to little bear.
So little bear had a cherry bakewell for breakfast. Porridge tomorrow, whether he likes it or not!
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