Christmas Toques

Hi. I'm Charles the Bear Cub. You know me. I live on Sparkle Road with my buddy,  James. He forgets where he puts his shoes. He's really old. He was the second Canadian to get off Noah's Ark. He must be at least 20 years old.  I have to look after him. Oh. Wait! Chance lives with us, too. He's a newborn cubby someone left in a basket on our doorstep. He's a wee little thing.

Know what? We get to wear our Christmas toques when we play! We play Santa Tag. I holler, "Ho! Ho! Ho!" and chase Chance around the coffee table and the Canadian Tire Christmas spruce. Chance makes little squeaky noises. That means he's having fun. Sometimes his toque falls down over his face. Then he can't see. Chance thinks he's invisible but he's not. "Look out, my son! I can see you!" I shout and chase him around the chesterfield. I holler, "I'm gonna get you!" When we're tired of playing Santa Tag we sit on  James' lap in the big green chair and he tells us stories about the olden days and sings songs until we all fall asleep.

When we wake up we get to cook cocoa. We cook it on the stove. I l-o-v-e cocoa. It's yummy and sweet. That's two of the four food groups in the Canada Food Guide. James tucks us into bed after our prayers. He kisses our noses and whispers, "Good night my Sons of Windsor. Good night my Princes of Ontario." This is Charles the very sleepy bear cub saying, "Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite. Over and out!"