Each night, Husband comes home from work, changes out of his suit, plays “Monster” on the bed with the boys and then the three of them settle in (on Husband’s lap) for an episode (or three, depending on the Yankees game) of pre-recorded Berenstain Bears. The singing of “Somewhere Deep In Bear Country” and the sound of my pouring a glass of chardonnay (ahhh…) are inextricably linked.
Anyway, an actual conversation tonight.
Big Brother: Daddy? (always waits for the “Yes” even if they are basically linked by skin and clearly in earshot.)
Husband: Yes, W.?
BB: Do you know who my favorite Bear is?
Now, the true answer here is “yes”. It’s Sister Bear. But, Husband isn’t much of a fan of that whole idea so the response goes as follows.
Husband: Hmmm. Let me think. Is it Papa Bear?
BB: No
H: Mama Bear?
BB: No.
H: Brother Bear?
BB: Nope.
H: Lizzy Bruin?
(I snicker quietly)
BB: No.
H: Farmer Ben?
BB: No.
H: Too Tall?
(Amazed. I’m laughing out loud now)
BB: No.
H: Grizzy Gran?
BB: No
H: Queenie?
BB: (Frustrated) DAD!!!! It’s Sister Bear!
H: Oh, Sister. Right.
I just love my husband.
Confessions of a Serial Swooper 
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