My, oh my, Mama Bear is panicking

 

The look on her face of her eaten porridge is the regret of our traveling

 

My, oh my, Papa Bear is angry

 

The print on his chair left him to wonder if Mama had acts of polyandry

 

My, oh my, I am crying

 

This little girl with bright, yellow locks  sleeping on my bed was quite terrifying

 

She laid there with her eyes closed and very peaceful

 

She was not very pretty though, resembling the looks of a weasel

 

I want her to wake up and find us staring at her

 

Hoping that this memory later on will be anything but a  blur

 

I hated this girl who laid on my bed

 

She caused us anguish while her comfort is laying on my bedspread

 

Papa Bear is angry, growling even

 

She gave him more anxiety than hunting season

 

I deeply desire that she has nightmares in her sleep

 

Then maybe next time, all she’ll be doing is counting sheep

 

Mama Bear was very annoyed

 

Oh, how I wish the girl knew what kind of barriers she had destroyed

 

Finally, this girl had woke up and yawned

 

She stared at us blankly, wondering what in the world was going on

 

Her eyes started to widen, and tears started to trickle

 

Papa Bear let out a growl while I could see her tremble and arms slowly cripple

 

Mama Bear nastily scrunched up her snout

 

And the girl just had to shout

 

This was the last straw, and I let out my biggest roar

 

Gladly, the little girl fell onto the floor

 

Crying, tears of agony and regret

 

We made sure of that, as she ran out and left

 

Oh, how glad we were that she was gone

 

It was a triumph, a celebration and last but not least, the greatest phenomenon