Bearry Review

Mom appeared in the doorway. "Oh no! Where did you have him last?"

After a long day of building pillow forts, chasing imaginary dragons, and eating peanut butter crackers, six-year-old Remo was ready for bed. He brushed his teeth— chka-chka-chka —put on his rocket ship pajamas, and hopped into bed. Bearry

"Okay, Bearry," Remo whispered, reaching out for his favorite stuffed bear. "Time for—" Mom appeared in the doorway

Remo’s hand met empty air. He sat up. He looked left. He looked right. He looked under the cozy blue blanket. Bearry was not there. "Bearry?" Remo asked, his voice shaking just a little. He brushed his teeth— chka-chka-chka —put on his

He ran to the hallway. There, sitting perfectly on top of the pile of clean clothes, was Bearry. He looked very cozy, almost like he had fallen asleep waiting to be brought back.

"Bearry!" Remo cheered, grabbing his friend and giving him a massive squeeze.

Remo thought hard. "We were looking at my bug book... then we had a snack... then we played tag..." The search began. It was a serious rescue mission. Under the table? No. Behind the big pot? No.