A few weeks ago, I became the great aunt to a gorgeous little boy named Oliver Bradley Grant. I went shopping for a gift. Sending things to Australia requires some thought, because I don’t like to pay more for postage than the gift is worth, and so I look for light weight items. I found a couple of lovely outfits and there was a tiny whitish colored bear on the front. As I walked to the cash register I spied a small white bear with a gray bow at his neck. He spoke to me on many levels, and then I picked him up and fell in love. Of course I had to buy him too.
I got home and started to put the package together, and I found I couldn’t part with the bear. What kind of great auntie would steal a little boy’s bear? Obviously me. : ) His paw pads were so soft, like velvet, and I kept stroking them. Then I noticed the fur around his eyes. I could brush it forward and he’d look sleepy, brush it back and he was wide awake. I named him Humphrey. I desperately needed to buy another one, because we all know what happens when you name something.
We bought two more bears home with us. After a rather weary day, he relaxed with a glass of sherry. And I went to the kitchen to get the paté and toast points.
Tomorrow we’re going to the post office so we can send his brother all the way to Australia. We’re sure Ollie will love him, but we’ll let him choose a name. Although we do think Herbert would be perfect. Harry will stay with us for a while. Some time in the near future we’ll run a contest, and some lucky commenter will get to adopt Harry. We promise he will not play strip billiards and get his photo in the papers and cause Humphrey and me extreme embarrassment. But you never know, because sometimes a bear has just got to do what a bear has got to do.