School In Our Jammies

Dearest Jessica and Jasper,

Thank you for joining us at preschool this week!  As you know, Opa and I endeavor to present letters of the alphabet in an engaging, educational manner for your nieces and nephew.  Truly, some letters are problematic – “I” for instance, has few relate-able examples for our tots (“igloo”, “iguana”) — but not yours.  Having your faces on a tea towel was the perfect visual aid, and you will be happy to know that your likenesses were recognized instantly.

Beginning in our usual manner, I held up a picture of an object and asked for its name.

“Letter ‘J’ says /j/.  What is this?” I inquired, holding up a coloring page of a jeep.

“Car!” exclaimed Miss Nomi.

“That’s a j-j-jeep,” corrected her mommy. “You’ve probably never seen one before.  It’s like a car on the front and a truck on the back.  Isn’t that neat?”

Next, a jet.

“Airplane!” Miss Nomi volunteered enthusiastically.  This is also true, and a perfect synonym (airliner, jet, aircraft, jumbo jet).

(Did you know, Jessica and Jasper, that English is rife with synonyms?  In fact, because of 1066 and William the Conqueror, English does not “borrow” words from other languages as we were taught in school. Nope. English follows other languages down dark alleys, knocks them over, and rifles through their pockets.  This is aggressive behavior, but it works unless you desire a particular synonym of “airplane” or “car”.  Yet, I digress.)

Thanks to you two, Letter J became so much simpler with your wedding invite as a visual aide.

“What about this auntie’s name that starts with ‘J’?”

“Jessica!”  “Jessica!” exclaimed both girlies. Mr. Mo nodded.

“And how about this almost-uncle?”

“Jasper!” hollered Miss Nomi, who then clarified.  “I used to call him ‘Jaspeare’, but now I call him ‘Jasper.’”  Good to know.

“And what other Auntie has a name beginning with ‘J’?” I queried.

“Aunt Anna!” responded the child with the most aunts, uncles and cousins.  We did clear that one up before Auntie Jenny arrived to join in the joy of Letter J Day. (Not sure what the situation was here, but it involved two stuffed mammals, a can of American Girl tennis balls, and measuring spoons.)  Oh, and a tent.

You guys and Jenny notwithstanding, “jellyfish” and “jam” rounded out our Letter J day.

Jam, as you both taught us in the UK last spring, goes so well with clotted cream and scones.  In fact, shoot! Why didn’t I think of making scones instead of peanut butter/jam thumbprint cookies?  Do you eat PB&J, Jasper?  It’s a thing here.

We cut it with our new kid-knives, rolled it into balls, made a well with our thumbs, and filled the well with jam.  We did this very, very swiftly, else we would have have very little dough left from nibbling.

So, sweetie-pies, thanks again for putting your faces on a tea towel for us to wipe our sticky jam fingers on.  We think of you regularly, and talk about your upcoming nuptials.  The girlies think we’re going to see the queen drive Peppa Pig across the open Tower Bridge and stomp through Trafalgar Square puddles wearing galoshes, but we’ll straighten them out eventually.

Love,

Oma and the gang.

Inuksuk gazed across the snowy, treeless landscape.  The sun, shrouded by flat, gray clouds, hung low in the horizon and a few dry flakes spun in the gathering wind.  Inuksuk smiled. It was the perfect day to build an igloo.

Inuksuk, whose name means “he who is spontaneous and versatile”, and his faithful companion, Izzy, strode to the dip between two snow mounds to watch for the arrival of the young apprentices.  Always wary of rogue polar bears, leopard seals, and the occasional Toyota, Inuksuk wielded the whale-bone spear left to him by his father, Ikiaq.

Across the tundra sped a great, black shape, growing larger by the second. Inuksuk’s proteges had arrived, and not a moment too soon.  Falling faster now, frozen sky water had piled into wind-packed drifts, temperatures continued to plummet, and Oma Inuksuk was demanding her hunter get on with it.  Today was “Letter I” day.

Mr. Momaglak, Miss Nomikilik, and Miss Emilinaraquk eagerly gathered before Inuksuk as he taught them the techniques of igloo construction.

“A child’s first igloo is never easy,” began the innovative engineer.  “You must choose the right kind of snow, cut it into rectangles with your trusty snow knife, and stack the blocks atop each other in just the right way. You will learn by watching your Opa-Inuksuk, and then you will be able to build your very own igloo for hunting seals on the frozen tundra.”

“Is it cold?” queried Miss Nomikilik.

“Yes,” answered Inuksuk wisely.  “Frozen sky water is very cold.  However, the inside of our igloo will be warm and toasty.  With a saucer for cooking, we will burn seal blubber.  With layers of caribou furs on our sleeping platform, we will be cozy.  You shall see.”

As the apprentices painted iguanas with Oma-Inuksuk, their spontaneous and versatile Opa-Inuksuk carved huge rectangles of couch cushions snow blocks and piled them around in an oval pattern.  He continued building the walls upward and inward, finally packing the crevices with white throws soft snow to keep the howling wind at bay.  Finally, he was finished.

Miss Nominuk, Miss Emanuksuk, and Mr. Moianuk inspected Inuksuk’s handiwork and declared this igloo to be perfect not only for a hunting base, but for a banqueting hall.  Taking their whale meat sandwiches and grapes inside, the three feasted heartily and told tales of their wise patron.

Later, as the autumn sun dipped below the distant mounds, disappearing for its long, winter solstice, the apprentices paid homage to Inuksuk.

“Bye, Opa!  Bye, bye!” chanted the little ladies.  Mr. Momaglak waved.

“Don’t forget!” shouted Inuksuk as their sleds sped away.  “When spring arrives, igloos turn to slush!  Never snooze in a defrosting igloo!”

Preschool was on break this week as the mommies packed for their bachelorette bash in Santa Fe.  However, we still got to put our OmaOpa skills into play.

First, I frolicked with the Little E’s while their mommy shopped.  After several variations on “hiding from the bad guy”, “mom and kid” (always a fave), and a bit of playdoh at the table, I suggested a walk.  November in the northwest has been exquisite, and this Oma needed some air.

Outside, Mr. Mo and I trailed behind Miss Nomi as she led us hither and yon, demanding that we whisper and carry sticks.  We were going on a bear hunt.

Me (In my most dramatic voice): Are we going to catch a big one?

Miss Nomi:  No.  A little one.

Me (Deflated, but playing along):  Oh.

Traipsing through swishy-swashy leaves, stumbling over fallen logs, hoisting Mr. Mo back to his feet, and whispering loud enough to frighten any little bears, I kept up with the hunt until – at last – we happened upon a lone cedar tree.

Miss Nomi:  Shhhh!  Here’s where the bear lives.

Me:  Did we catch him?

Miss Nomi:  Yes.  Now we will have him for dinner.

Me:  Ok!

Miss Nomi:  But, how do we?

At this point I thought:  You’re an E.  You know how this works, right?  Somebody shoots the bear, guts it with a huge knife, skins it, carves it into chunks, cooks it over a fire, and everybody gets a bite. 

Out loud I said, “Well.  You’ll have to cut the little bear…”

Miss Nomi:  Just for pretend.

Me:  Right!  Let’s just pretend we’re having the bear for dinner.  Or, let’s just invite the bear inside for lunch and fix him a turkey sandwich!

In the end, we left the little bear outside and drove my car to the zoo instead.  Whew.

The Bear Hunt theme continued to the next day with the other tot, who had spent the night. Opa and I decided on an outing to Jackson Park so Miss Em, a.k.a. the “energizer bunny”, could “run and jump!” through wide-open spaces.  She did.

Beyond those wide-open spaces lay pint-sized railroad tracks for the little steamer train.  Discovering the novelty of walking the tracks, Miss Em led us deeper and deeper into the woods.

Miss Em:  We’re hunting bears.

Me (Hoping for a big one this time): Okay!  Where’s the bear?  Do you see one?

At that precise moment Opa whistled his trademark “signal whistle”, which is a kind of “hoo-HOO, hoo-HOO,” stopping the little bear hunter in her tracks right there on the tracks.

Me:  (Dramatic question): What was that?

Miss Em (Dramatic gasp): It’s Opa!

Yep, she’s no dummy, that wee bunny.  We did not speak of shooting, carving, cooking or eating this bear.

However, we did invite him home for lunch.

HORTON HEARD some Whos down in E-ville this week, folks.  HAVING another H-activity to attend in the HARBOR later with their Aunty Jenny, the three Little Whos took preschool on the road for a rollicking Letter H day.

E-ville, as some might know, is particularly lovely in the autumn.  Befitting a HIKE through leaf-cluttered trails, the Whos gathered golden bunches.  “Let’s make a big pile and jump in it!” suggested Miss Nomi, who promptly forgot her own suggestion and asked Oma to hold her leafy bouquet.

Oma politely declined, HOWEVER – and Oma doesn’t know HOW, exactly – she did end up carrying not one but two bouquets, Mr. Mo, and her camera until she could locate the wagon.  (Oma can sympathize with Horton who, as you’ll remember, was HOUNDED by two kangaroos, three bears, and an eagle with a black bottom as he HUNTED through 3,000,000 clovers to find those Whos on their dust speck.  Ahem.  HORTON, we lack spine!)

This day, Letter H was for HIPPO, HELICOPTER, HAND, and HAIR.  The Who’s first task was to pronounce the /h/ sound, whereupon they all replied “ha ha ha ha!”  Next, they they drew faces on paper bag HEADS and practiced their cutting skills.

Alas, the Who who can operate scissors didn’t want to, and the Who who can’t refused HELP, so we moved on to HAND cookies.  (This little Who just wanted to read his Bible:)

Hand cookies are a thing, apparently.  Pioneer Woman makes them, Pinterest loves them — Who knew?  Not Oma, who had tried and failed to purchase a hand-shaped cookie cutter that very morning.  “Those must be seasonal,” said the  HELPFUL-but-not-really store lady.  “They should be right over there.  Nope, they’re not.  Where could they be? Where else could you go?  Marshalls?  Target?”

Oma finally thanked her for the fifty-third time and got outa there with her canned frosting and other necessities.

Sans cutter, Oma used a dull knife while the Whos HELD their HANDS very still on the dough.

Speaking of HANDS, since Miss Nomi, Miss Em, and Mr. Mo love to paint, Oma thought that HANDPRINTS seemed a good idea.  Indeed, it was.

As Horton would say, a person’s a person, no matter how small.  However, when the small persons outnumber the adult persons and painting time descends into chaos, it’s time to call it an early day.  So, Oma HOSED down those Whos and made tracks for HOME.  Bye-bye, Little Whos.  Oma loves you.  Next week we’ll make igloos for iguanas.

‘Twas a golden, fall day in preschool land when the GRANNY in GLASSES prepped her toddlers for drama practice.  Today’s Letter G involved a spectacle based loosely on Goodnight, Gorilla, by Peggy Rathmann, GREATLY loved by all three tots.

(Earlier that very morning, Oma had taken the GRANDPA aside.  “Can you be the zookeeper?” she asked.  “We’re reading Goodnight, Gorilla today.  Do you know that story?”

Opa didn’t know it very well.

“It’s simple, but you can ham it up,” she advised.  “Make sure my car keys are hanging out your back pocket so the gorilla can take them.” 

“Are we teaching our grandchildren to steal?” asked Opa.

“Not exactly,” said Oma. “Oh, and you’ll need your jungle hat and a flashlight.”)

Next, she coached Miss Nomi on her opening scene. “What’s that sneaky gorilla doing?” she queried.

“God says stealing is wrong,” asserted Miss N.

“That’s right! I think he’s just borrowing the keys from the zookeeper,” reassured Oma.  “You will take the keys out of Opa’s back pocket and help all of us gorillas unlock the animals’ cages!”

“You do it,” countered the concerned actress.

Preschoolers prepped and Opa staged in the dining room, Oma announced “action!” and the Goodnight, Gorilla drama commenced.

“Goodnight, Lion!  I hope you sleep well tonight and don’t have any bad dreams,” whispered Opa to the Lion.  “Goodnight, elephant.  Do you have your binky?  Is your blanket handy?  Are you warm enough in your cage?  Goodnight giraffe!  Don’t get an achy neck tonight.  Do you have a soft pillow?”  Opa is GOOD at improv.

Finally, after hamming it up as much as he dared, the zookeeper trudged up the stairs to his bed.  He was followed by four tiptoeing gorillas.  (Little did the gorillas know, but Mommy Amy was already in the bed, pretending to be the zookeeper’s sleeping wife.)

“Okay,” whispered Oma.  “Crawl in bed, gorillas.  Take the elephant, giraffe, lion, and mouse with you.  Shhhhh…don’t wake the zookeeper!”

“Goodnight, dear,” said Amy right on cue, as Opa crawled into bed and began to snore.  We four gorillas chimed in —  “Goodnight!”  “Goodnight!”  “Goodnight!” “Nigh night!”

You’ll understand from the story that this was a faux paux on the part of those sneaky yet well-meaning gorillas, resulting in their banishment back to the zoo.

Thus ended Goodnight, Gorilla for this Letter G day. Although our drama may need more work, critics will agree that Miss Em, Mr. Mo, and Miss Nomi may have budding careers ahead.

At least they rock that celebrity eye wear.

Also, Erin — you can be my back-up camera operator any day.

Mrs. M walked into our classroom last Tuesday and explained that she’d dreamt about me the night before: I was a second-grade teacher!  This is hilarious for several reasons, not the least of which was my inability to think of any preschool-appropriate Letter “F” words.  FLUORINE?  FABRICATION?  FLORIDA? FOCAL point?

But, dear readers, you will be relieved to know that after yet another quick Pinterest search, this high school English teacher discovered several very good words which do indeed begin with “F”:  FROG, FOOT, FOX, FIRETRUCK, FISH.  Yay for me!  We were in business.

Our morning began with a bowl of cereal and a bit of playtime while we waited for Miss Em to arrive. Miss Nomi decided that she wanted to “pretend I’m a bad person”, which for her meant collecting a FARE from ones who wished to go up or down the stairs.  This sounded wrong to me.

However, I had FORGOTTEN that Opa’s Bible lesson, which he and I had rehearsed earlier, involved me grabbing a toy from him and then asking for FORGIVENESS for being a bad person.  So, there ya go.

As is our custom, after practicing letter/sound recognition for 15-30 seconds (hooray for preschool attention spans!), we incorporated our letter with an art project.  Truly, this part of preschool helps with both their cognition and my ability to swiftly and skillfully squirt paint into a muffin tin while the mommies drew FISHIES on a long piece of banner paper.  Don’t you love those artsy Mommies?

Next came cooking class.  Today we pulled the last of the donut dough out of the fridge and whipped up some FISH loaves, complete with craisen eyes and colored sugar.

(Ahem.  “F” also begins FOCAL point and mine is off.  Miss Em is not blurry in real life).

We baked our FISH loaves, added a turkey roll-up and a FROND of lettuce for color, and enjoyed our FOOD. Clearly, I am now quite carried away with Letter “F”.

FINALLY, the downpour let up just long enough for a FALL walk to the cul de sac and some puddle jumping. Miss Em had the most FUN, as she is undeniably the most FROLICKSOME of the three, and the only one needing to change her FROCK before nap.

After nap always comes special movie time on Opa’s lap.  In keeping with our Letter F theme we had chosen “Nemo”, whose mother and siblings all die before his birth, whose FATHER is nearly a shark snack, and whose escape from the dentist’s office is FROUGHT with peril.  What kind of grandparents are we, anyway?

Thank you for a terrific farewell visit last Thursday; my preschoolers were impressed.  It was, of course, Letter E for ELEPHANT day and you’re not one — nonetheless, you two ladies ENTERTAINED us EXCELLENTLY.

Not to throw shade towards Suki, who was ENJOYING a pedi and some veggies inside the barn.  Mr. Mo, as a matter of fact, couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of a pachyderm deftly plucking romaine off the floor with her proboscis. (Wow.  Letter “P”, anyone?)

However, after a quick hello to baby tapir Kazu, whose daddy was being stalked by two very vocal tigers, we hightailed it to Rocky Shores.  Our objective for the day was to see you two, since you’re leaving us soon for Sea World, San Diego. (I am sad about that, surely.  But if joining a walrus herd will benefit your reproductive future, I get it.  Kinda like a “more-fish-in-the-sea” thing, yes?  My advice: play hard-to-get as you check out those other hunky walruses. Make Dozer jealous.)

By the way, when you’re down south maybe you could have your people talk to some other people and get us a new polar bear?  We’d really like one. He need not be young, macho, or even ferocious – just awake.  Miss Em thinks that polar bears do nothing but sleep behind boulders, out of sight.  Every. Single. Time.

But, ladies.  Seriously, you were all we’d hoped for. We walked downstairs, turned the corner, and bam.  There you were – doing your walrus thing: Gliding your bulky selves effortlessly through the water, pirouetting prettily before the Plexiglas, pausing just long enough to let the little preschool ladies “touch!” you again and again and again.  Both Miss Nomi and Miss Em announced, “there’s another one!” so many times that Aunty Amy finally explained how you were doing circuits around and around and back around.  My girlies still thought 742 walruses lived in that tank, but that’s fine.  Two walruses or 742 walruses — it was impressive.

So, Kulusiq and Basilla, bye-bye.  You made our day.  We love you.

We’ll look forward to hearing news about you someday.  In the meantime, our zoo visits may be a bit less spectacular, but we’ll always have fishy kitchens to explore. And Ivan’s nose.

Fondly,

Oma

Once upon a time, when Opa was a lad (this was a very long time ago), his mommy taught him how to make donuts.

“Jimmy,” said Opa’s mommy, “because you like donuts so much, I’m going to teach you how to make them all by yourself.  This way, whenever you’re hungry for donuts, you’ll be able to deep-fry a dozen and eat them. How does that sound?”

Little Opa thought that sounded delightful.  From that day on, he did make donuts whenever he wanted them.  In fact, Opa made donuts at least once when he was a teenager, and again when he was a young man living all by himself.  Sadly, he doesn’t remember ever making donuts for parties, or for his friends, or for his sisters, or for any other person, but Opa does remember that when he lived in Idaho, he would go to Safeway and buy a great, big potato and eat it for his dinner.  He probably made himself donuts for dessert.

After many more years had gone by and Opa had married Oma, he made his special donuts for Jessica, David, Amy, and Jennifer.  His children only vaguely remember Opa’s special donuts, but that’s okay.  This week Oma asked Opa if he could make his delicious, delightful, doughy donuts with his grandchildren for “Letter ‘D’ Day”, and he said yes.  He’s a very good Opa.

Before Opa made donuts for Miss Nomi, Miss Em, and Mr. Mo, he first told them about Deborah.  Deborah was a leader of God’s people and led the army in a battle to defeat their enemies.  Then Deborah wrote a beautiful song of thanks to God.

After his Bible story and before he made donuts, Opa watched as Oma explained all about the letter “D”.  Next, the three preschoolers made dogs in the shape of a “D” and held their artwork up for Opa to admire.

Finally, it was time.

Opa led everybody to the kitchen, where he prepared the donut dough.  Donuts, as everybody knows, have holes in their middles.  Holes are very important for donuts, because without holes you might be deceived into thinking that they were biscuits, which they aren’t.  They are donuts.

Now, Opa would always –when he made donuts by himself – roll the hot, greasy delights in a pile of cinnamon and sugar.  Opa’s grandchildren, however, preferred to adorn their donuts with pink, purple, or neon green glaze and then sprinkle them liberally with sprinkles, which they did.

Miss Nomi, Miss Em, and Mr. Mo agreed that Opa’s donuts were the most delicious donuts they had tasted in quite a while.  This made Opa very, very happy.

Later that evening, after Opa’s team beat the other team in their game, he was happy. Happiness made Opa think of donuts, so he asked Oma if there were any left.

Opa:  My team won!  I’m gonna go scrounge.  Where’s Emmy’s leftover donut?

Oma:  I gave it to Amy.

Opa: Oh. Are there no chunks left anywhere?

Oma:  Nope.  No chunks.

Opa:  Maybe we should make some more tonight!

Oma suggested that perhaps Opa could make more donuts another day, since it was too late for cooking, frying, and eating anything, particularly donuts.

The sun was not hot,

It was too COLD to play

So they stayed in the house

To have preschool that day.

I knew they would COME

As they usually do,

Very early for CORN flakes,

Plus a sausage or two.

I looked!

Then I saw them step in on the mat!

I looked!

And I saw them!

CUZ I am the CAT.

“I know –let’s play CARS!  CAN we play in my room?”

No, no! said my Oma,

It’s time for preschool.

Today is Letter C,

Now isn’t that COOL?

So they sat at the table

And heard about CALEB,

Who spied out the land

And then entered CANAAN.

They COLORED some CROWNS

Made a “C” on some paper,

Glued COTTON balls down —

Before starting their CAPER.

CUPCAKES, Oh CUPCAKES!

Those start with a “C”,

The CHILDREN CRIED, “yippee!”

CUZ they COULDN’T see me.

You see, I am wary

Of people so short

They jump and they bump —

All they do is CAVORT.

I growl and I hiss,

I stalk, and I hide,

I glare at their faces;

At times we COLLIDE.

But!  I found a place special

Way up on the CABINET

A secret, safe CORNER

Away from an accident.

What they don’t know –

Is I am right above them!

Watching them stir

And lick — such mayhem!

But when it’s all over

And they’re gone for the day

I jump down to join Opa

Who then hits the hay.

We snuggle, we two

On his chair that is red

Me on his arm,

Him stroking my head.

It’s been such a trial

These Thursdays, for sure.

I never know quite

How I come to endure.

Alas, I’m the CAT.

I’ve been here the longest.

Though if there were a battle,

I would lose the CONTEST.

PORT ORCHARD – In a shocking development yesterday, three tots were chased by a large carnivore while on a preschool field trip.  According to witnesses, the bear lumbered from its long, narrow cave wielding a red coffee cup and roaring loudly.

By all accounts, it was a beautiful day.  The three tots, Miss Nomi, Miss Em and Mr. Mo, were attending their weekly class at OmaOpa’s Preschool where the incident occurred.  After Opa had introduced letter “B” with a talk on the bbb-Bible, Oma directed the students to construct their own bbb-binoculars out of paper rolls and yarn.

“Our binoculars worked reasonably well,” remarked Miss Nomi.  “I could see through them; however, the tape Oma had used to hold the eyepieces together kept sticking to my eyebrows.  After several of my complaints went unheeded, I finally demanded they be repaired, or I would refuse to continue with the lesson.”

Binoculars fixed, Miss Nomi says she turned her attention to coloring a bbb-bird and a bbb-banana.

Meanwhile, Miss Em inquired about the bbb-book, Going on a Bear Hunt, which was lying conspicuously on Oma’s desk.  “I just love books, you know,” she gushed.

Readers will remember that Going on a Bear Hunt” is a relatively-new children’s classic, having been written just 25 years ago.  The plot – a family outing to “catch a big one” – takes place on a beautiful day. Typical of quest tales, the family overcomes several obstacles; yet unlike “Jabberwocky” or “Beowulf’, they do fail to capture the creature.

“Unfortunately, I was injured before the hunt began,” asserted Mr. Mo.  To evade capture by his mother, he had just tumbled down three stairs and landed on his face, resulting in a bloody lip.  “It wasn’t that I was in that much pain,” explained Mo later.  “But I had determined to take advantage of my mommy’s compassion.  Had I not allowed her to carry me through the big, dark forest, I surely would have been caught.  Frankly, I was appalled that the girls were made to run for their lives. I could have been mauled!”

Providing a map to the bbb-bear cave, Oma allegedly instructed all three tots to get into their bbb-boots and coats.  Unbeknownst to all but the savvy adult conspirators, Opa had sneaked out the deck door and was nowhere to be seen.

“Look!  Here’s some long, wavy grass!” exclaimed Oma.

“It’s short,” countered Miss Nomi, noticing the lack of swishy-swashy foliage.

Next, witnesses assert, the group proceeded through the deep, cold river and the thick, oozy mud without incident.  Before them loomed a dark, scary forest and a swirling, whirling snowstorm.

“We liked the snowstorm the best,” reported Miss Em.  “Although tossing white rice in the air lacked the ‘hooo wooo!’ sound of a real snowstorm, we were still enjoying our adventure.”

After the faked snowstorm, however, the tots recall how their beautiful day bear hunt took a dark turn.  “I kept asking if it was a real bear,” Miss Nomi revealed.  “But, as usual, Oma ignored my concerns.”

“I knew all along it was Opa,” countered Miss Em.  “I saw him crouching there inside the teepee. I tried to reassure my cousin.  She, however, was already convinced our lives were in imminent peril.”

At this point, conflicting accounts taken into consideration, the group approached the long, narrow cave and spied the shiny wet nose, the two googly eyes, and the big-ness of the “bear”.  The bear, a.k.a. Opa, then emerged from the cave, roaring and growling.

“It was difficult getting out of the cave, and I had a wet bbb – but, I didn’t spill my coffee,” admitted OpaBear.

Running as her life depended on it, Miss Nomi asserts that she flew through the forest and the snowstorm, by-passed both the ooey-gooey mud and the dark, cold river, and regained the house.  Miss Em, Mr. Mo, and the rest of the expedition followed, as did the bear.  “I slammed the door in the bear’s face,” she told this reporter.  “Wasn’t that the point?  Oma wouldn’t let me shoot anything; what else would I do?”

All in all, neither tots nor fake bears were injured in the incident. Charges have not been filed against OmaOpa’s Preschool.  Members Nomi, Em, and Mo say they will return next week for letter “C”, hoping for ccc-cupcakes rather than ccc-crocodiles.

Asked for comment, Oma would only answer —

You get a line and I’ll get a pole baby…we’ll go fishin’ in the crocodile hole…”