From my future SIL Nancy

Three Bears

A far more accurate account of the events of that fateful
morning...

Baby bear goes downstairs, sits in his small chair at the
table, and he looks into his small bowl. It is empty. "Who's been eating my
porridge?" he squeaks.

Daddy Bear arrives at the big table and sits in his big chair.
He looks into his big bowl and it is also empty. "Who's been eating my
porridge?!?" he roars.

Mummy Bear puts her head through the serving hatch from the
kitchen and yells, "For God's sake, how many times do we have to go
through this with you idiots?

It was Mummy Bear who got up first.
It was Mummy Bear who woke everyone in the house.
It was Mummy Bear who made the coffee.
It was Mummy Bear who unloaded the dishwasher from last night
and put everything away.
It was Mummy Bear who went out in the cold early morning air to fetch
the newspaper and croissants.
It was Mummy Bear who set the damn table.
It was Mummy Bear who put the bloody cats out, cleaned the
litter boxes, gave the cats their food, and refilled their water. And now
that you've decided to drag your sorry bear-asses downstairs and grace
Mummy Bear with your grumpy presence, listen carefully, because I'm only
going to say this once....

I HAVEN'T MADE THE F***ING PORRIDGE YET!!!