Diary of a Class Bear

Home / Diary of a Class Bear - December 5, 2017 , by yvettelamb

Diary of a class bearMonday:

Well, today pretty much blew. Mrs T forgot to take me out of my bag when the latest in a long line of snotty kids returned me to school, so I spent the whole day in a dark, scary place (and I’m not just talking about my mind). The bag smelt like used socks – in fact, a cage would have been preferable actually. Plus I was still wearing my woolly hat and felt as hot as the fiery pits of hell. If my friends at the factory could see what being the class bear has done to me, they’d be (attempting to) turn in their production line.

Tuesday:

Saw light again today when Mrs T finally remembered my existence. It was great, I could breathe and everything. Wasn’t so nice being poked in the eye by Evil Lucas (as I call him), but it’s OK – when it’s his turn to take me home – I’m going to fart on his pillow.

Wednesday:

Today was hilarious. Sebastian vommed all over the carpet and took out Violet and Jack in the process. They were covered! It was a magnificent massacre of cheerios and carrots, and made about five kids cry (I’m not sure why, it was awesome). I even saw Mrs T have a retch herself as she cleaned them up, but it didn’t amount to anything, sadly.

Thursday:

Today was quiet as apparently 12 kids are off with a sickness bug- such a coincidence after yesterday. My loss is some other Bear’s gain I’m sure, as they get to witness the spraying of both furniture and family members. Mostly, I just watched everyone else play, which is pretty lonely. Except for when Tabitha hit Josh and made him cry. That, at least, gave me a moment of pure, unadulterated happiness.

Friday:

Friday is always a big day for me. Will I be rescued from eternal boredom by a decent kid with a rich family and a point to prove; getting to enjoy a weekend of adventure? Or will it be out of the frying pan and into the fire, as I’m snatched from my safe haven by a 4-year-old with illusions of psychotic grandeur? It turns out it’s Louie’s turn – I haven’t had much in the way of dealings with him yet – so it could go either way. Wish me luck!

Saturday:

Well, it ain’t a weekend in the Cotswold, that’s for sure. It started promising enough, with a breakfast of shreddies laid out for me while the parents smiled indulgently and took (too many) photos. BUT THEN THEY DIDN’T FEED ME! ‘Hello?’ I wanted to yell, ‘I’m a TEDDY BEAR. Have you seen how short my arms are? Yes, it’s a design flaw, throw me a bone here!’ It was torture having food so close but not in reach, pure torture. And I don’t even like cereal particularly, but it’s a matter of animal instinct (and principal).

Anyway, the day followed with a trip to the park (yawn), McDonald’s (had to pose ten fricking times again without actually even getting to sniff the damn burger), and… that was it. A change is as good as a rest, I suppose, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping for a spa trip, or at the very least, a water park.

Sunday:

Am like a Bear with a sore head (ha ha) this morning. Turns out there are others like me here: different shapes and sizes, but ultimately all stuffed and miserable as well. They escaped from the baby’s room last night and we all got p*ssed on prosecco. Elephant sliced his paw opening the bottles, but we used the mum’s silk scarf as a bandage, am pretty sure she won’t mind the stains.

Spent the morning at soft play, which was obviously some sort of ethereal punishment from the gods. And even now that I’ve finally been left to it while they all f*ck off to eat lunch without me in the kitchen, I can’t shake the feeling of existential dread that has washed over me.
I suppose that’s just soft play on a hangover. I’m sure I’m not alone in it.

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