Tomorrow morning we celebrate Ursus Theodorus with a group of two-year-olds and their adult wranglers (aka parents). I must be bright, chipper and alert. The world, as the tee shirt says, needs more lerts.

Do the little dance if you know the steps:

Teddy bear, teddy bear, turn around.
Teddy bear, teddy bear, touch the ground.
Teddy bear, teddy bear, show your shoe.
Teddy bear, teddy bear, that will do.
Teddy bear, teddy bear, go up the stairs.
Teddy bear, teddy bear, say your prayers.
Teddy bear, teddy bear, turn out the light.
Teddy bear, teddy bear, say good night.

The temptation to get up on my intellectual high horse is sometimes very great, since, though I think the two-year-olds are at least as smart as any of us here -- and I know they all have more brain activity going on -- the chance for debate is almost nil.

I will think of all of you tomorrow when reading Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? and singing "The Bear Went Over the Mountain".

Just remember, the history of war is really quite simple: sometimes you eat the bear, and sometimes the bear eats you. Somebody's two-year-old may be bear chow tomorrow.

Good night, and this time I mean it.

Regards--
Mary Anne