[awaite]

A far more accurate account of the events of that fateful morning...

Baby Bear goes downstairs, sits in his small chair at the table.
> > He looks into his small bowl.
> >
> > It is empty. "Who's been eating my porridge?" he squeaks.
> >
> > Daddy Bear arrives at the big table and sits in his big chair.
> >
> > He looks into his big bowl and it is also empty.
> >
> > "Who's been eating my porridge?!?" he roars.
> >
> > Mummy Bear puts her head through the serving hatch from the kitchen and
> > yells,
> > "For God's sake, how many times do I have to go through this
> > with you idiots?
> > It was Mummy Bear who got up first.
> > It was Mummy Bear who woke everyone in the house.
> > It was Mummy Bear who made the coffee.
> > It was Mummy Bear who unloaded the dishwasher from last
> > night
> > and put everything away.
> > It was Mummy Bear who swept the floor in the kitchen.
> > It was Mummy Bear who went out in the cold, early morning
> > air
> > to fetch the newspaper and croissants.
> > It was Mummy Bear who set the damn table.
> > It was Mummy Bear who walked the bloody dog, cleaned the
> > cat's
> > litter tray, gave them their food, and refilled their water.
> >
> > And now that you've decided to drag your sorry bear-asses
> > downstairs and grace Mummy Bear with your grumpy presence,
> > listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this
> > once....
> >
> > I HAVEN'T MADE THE F***ING PORRIDGE YET!!!"