A Baby Bear climbed into bed with us last night. I could feel his ice cold toes make their way under the covers until they were firmly planted on my back. Too tired to make him return to his room, I inched over to allow some space.
He wiggled and squirmed the way a baby bear does. And I turned my back and buried my head under a pillow, trying to hibernate for a few more hours.
Then he patted my back and waited until I turned my head.
"Protect me," he whispered.
From monsters? From nightmares? From dark and scary shadows?
"You bet I will."
I wrapped my arms of protection around him... just so he'd be sure of it. And then I silently threatened to claw the eyes out of anyone or anything that threatened to rob my child of his security...
Because that's what Mama Bears do.
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