Bella the bloody bear

I had been dreading this bloody bear coming to our house. I did force half of my class to endure this little treat one year, for which I apologise, but at least I saw sense and abandoned Fluffy around Christmas. Karma’s a bitch.

Here’s what we wrote.


On Monday, 8th May, Bella came to visit Jet’s house. As soon as she got to our house, Jet’s Daddy made her, Jet and Stella a cup of hot milk and they watched a few shows on CBeebies.

We gave Bella a pece of cake. I red her a book. in my bedroom. goodnigh!


Here’s what I wanted to write:

Due to the ten minute window available when all four members of Jet’s family were in the house at the same time, Daddy was forced to make the dinner rather than dropping everything in order to come across as interesting to any subsequent bear hosts/hostesses by doing something befitting of the occasion of my visit. Therefore me and the kids chilled in front of CBeebies. Well, I chilled. Jet and Stella argued about who was going to choose the next show. There was screeching.


Mummy had had a rubbish day at work and was feeling particularly passive aggressive towards Jet’s school as it was, so failed to do anything with the shitting bear me except take me to the shop to buy herself some chocolate.



Rather than going out of her way to make me feel welcome, Jet’s Mummy just went about her usual business. She spent the evening repeating herself as Jet took about 100 years to eat his lamb chops, which is his favourite dinner and cost a bloody fortune, apparently. Bedtime at Jet’s house was a bit stressful, as once in his pyjamas Jet helpfully destroyed then rebuilt Stella’s Duplo model, resulting in her biting him, all whilst his Mummy was downstairs trying to remember where she had put his fucking reading book.



Mummy failed to see the point of the exercise, as none of the entries in my diary had been written by the children, but were all written by the parents. “Who are we doing this for? What is the point of the exercise?” went Mummy’s inner monologue. Despite these feelings of confusion, she tried writing it herself like all the other parents, but after Jet shouted at her and relentlessly questioned everything she had written, she capitulated and gave him the pen.


Jet, at least, seemed to be glad I had come. Although he did forget to brush my teeth, despite the fact my toothbrush was the only thing I packed in my suitcase.


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